A Whole New World
by babyvfan
Summary: Being a princess has restrictions and burdens, but more than anything Flora longs to see life beyong the castle walls and experience things. Can a lowly blue-eyed servant give her that and more? Including love?
1. Chapter 1

**A Whole New World **

"Flora," Even after ignoring him for the past two hours and a half, her dad was still there. Standing outside her bedroom door she thankfully locked after she retreated to her room and he was knocking nonstop. "Sweetheart, will you please open the door so we can talk? Please?"

The green-eyed beauty listened to her father's knocking for awhile before she finally turned her body around the other way and lifted her head up from her pillow to stare at the door, looking at it for awhile without really seeing. She wondered how long he was going to stand there. She wondered if his hand was staining from all that knocking. But mostly she wondered how long it was going to take for him to realize she really didn't want to talk to anyone today.

She sighed heavily as she turned away from the door, shifting her body back to the right where she was previously looking out her balcony windows and watching the beautiful sun beginning to set. Her beautiful emerald eyes watched as shades of pink and orange color the sky as the sun was slowly going on, shining some beautiful light into her open room.

"Honey, please?" her father pleaded. "Prince O'Neal seems like a fine young man. You may not like him now but you might sooner if you give him a chance."

Choosing not to answer her father and pretending not to hear him, Flora nuzzled her head into her pillow and closed her eyes, deeply sighing again.

_Tis a burden being a princess_, she thought.

At the young age of seventeen, caught in the middle of not being a girl but also far from being a woman, Flora seemed to achieve so much and yet so little in her life. She was the princess and sole heir of the Linpena throne, daughter of the kingdom's beloved and wise king, Sir Edmund, and the late queen, Lady Lilly. Her father always had her best interest of heart, always making sure she had everything her heart desired but also being careful to make sure she wasn't spoiled. She was praised and loved by her people, who never failed to show her how much they all admired her. She was blessed with beauty and brains and kindness, things most people dream of obtaining, but she still wasn't happy.

She may be a princess, a dream she knew most girls her age wanted so badly, but there was burdens and requirements that came along with it that made her feel so low. She was never allowed to go out beyond the castle gates until she had an escort by her side. But even when she was allowed outside, they didn't really go far and they usually went to a social gathering for one of their royal friends. Since born, she was taught to be seen and not heard at gatherings until spoken to, otherwise she was required to stare straight ahead and do nothing at all. Not being allowed to travel throughout her kingdom, it really didn't give the young princess time to socialize. She had no one else but a few servants and her plants as her friends to get her through the loneliness, but there was one custom she had to follow that she hated so much.

Getting married before she turned eighteen.

For generations and generations in her royal family, before a prince or princess could become king or queen, then they would need to be married before their eighteenth birthday and can take the throne. And as princess of Linpea and her already being seventeen, she needed to find a husband before she can take over her kingdom as queen.

Although the custom may have been in her family for decades, it was still a rule of a princess she hated to follow. Unfortunately for her, whether she liked it or not, it was a hated rule she still had to follow if she wanted to be queen and her father immediately started searches throughout the worlds, in every kingdom, for the perfect prince to be the husband for his precious daughter.

Unlike most royal marriages, where the parents would pick out the groom or bride and the child was accustomed to follow through with the marriage, King Edmund was going to let the princess pick out her husband to be. However, he still was using anyway he could think of to find her a groom and help her meet some princes. He had the maids doll her up for the countless parties and balls thrown in her honor, where she'd danced with endless suitors wanting her hand in marriage. Had servants make dozens of lists filled with endless names of all the available princes from neighboring realms to the universal worlds. And just recently started letting the princes come over to her palace, where'd he arranged a meeting between the prince and the princess for a lunch meeting or a walk through the royal rose gardens.

Not wanting to let her father down, she swallowed her pride and went along for the ride. She accepted to dance with the princes and noble men who asked her to dance at the parties and acted politely to every bachelor her dad arranged for her to meet, giving them each a fair chance to charm her but they just weren't the right matches for her.

Most of the princes were a bit too crazy or too timid for her and the dates were so dull, but the one her dad arranged to come spend the day with them today was the most horrible of them all.

He was Prince O'Neil, soon to be king of the kingdom Iciuis who was seeking a wife. Very high in the social status ladder, came from a powerful family who had very high power, and the fact marriage between him and Flora would draw an alliance between their two kingdoms, King Edmund thought the Iciuis Prince would be perfect for Flora.

When Flora was summoned to the dining room, finally through with her servants preparing her for dinner and had her dressed in the dressiest gown she owned, she held her head high as she walked into the room and didn't falter when she saw a young prince standing beside her father. She smiled politely as she curtsied low before him while he bowed, and then studied him for a moment. He seemed attractive with his honey-golden hair slicked back, giving him a mature and sophisticated look, had a face she found very attractive in a boy-ish baby-faced way, and had eyes that were the color of the ice.

Unfortunately at the time she was a bit naive when it came being deceived by appearances, and learned the lesson later as the day went by and she spent more time with Prince O'Neil. He seemed okay at first and charming with that dazzling smile of his own, but he quickly caused her to lose that thought of him as his true self was coming out, proving he could never be the type of person she imagined herself spending time with-much less getting married to. He was arrogant and rude, talking endlessly about himself and his accomplishments without even bothering to ask her a question about herself, indicating he had no interest in getting to know her. He looked at her in a predacious way like a raving wolf meeting the eyes of its prey as he reached out to caress her arm, not even knowing she was shuddering from his cool and rough touch, while he went on and on about their future together. They weren't even engaged yet, but he was already acting like they were days away from their wedding. But the worst came at the end, when he was ready to leave.

He thanked the king for the invitation, nodded to Flora, and was about to leave. Then suddenly he came back, smiling that charming smile that she might have cute at first but quickly found it annoying, and then had the nerve to kiss her-long and hard, crushing his lips against hers before she could even blink-in front of everyone, and then got slapped hard by her when she was finally able to free herself from his suffocating embrace. She then slapped him again, her hand lashing out and smacking his right cheek, once she saw the smugness in his eyes like he won his prize. She usually wasn't someone to do something so hasty. She always liked to think through before she does them, but knew she had every right to slap him across the face.

Prince O'Neil, being so arrogant, had the nerve to think he was allowed to kiss her, and actually did it in front of everyone-her servants, her friends, her father who were all speechless and stared with shocked, wide eyes. She was so disgusted by his kiss and shamed everyone around her witnessed the embarrassing moment, already feeling the hot tears burning in her eyes ready to feel any second.

Before they could fall, only adding more embarrassment, she quickly fled to her room and slammed the door loudly behind her; sure everyone could hear it downstairs. It wasn't until she changed out from the lacey dress she was forced to wear for the occasion into more comfortable clothes, unclasped the dozens of pins holding her up-do and let her long hair flow freely down her back, and crawled into bed did she finally allowed the tears to fall. At first two big tears slowly rolled down her face, but quickly countless tears were streaming down her face. She spent most of the time in her room crying until they weren't anymore tears left in her system and then became extremely quiet, feeling so numb inside while staring out the window.

"Please, flower, will you open the door?" her father pleaded. "Just a crack, so we can talk."

Flora shook her head miserably, although she knew fully well he couldn't see it. Crying so hard and for long really worn her out and completely drained her. She was too tried to open the door, but even if she wasn't she still wouldn't because she wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. She only wants to be left alone, or bet yet wants this horrible day to be over already.

"Do you know that today was one of the worst days of my life, father? Do you realize that?" she said, a sharp tone hardening her usual soft voice. "To be kissed by a total stranger whose hands were running all over my body in front of everyone? Do you realize I felt like melting into the ground and disappear?"

"I didn't know-" Her father tried to explain, but was cut off by her. He flinched at her voice, hearing how cold and sharp it was in contrast to her warm voice.

"_Of course you didn't know_!" she said, her voice low yet loud with anger and sadness. "Because you didn't even bother to ask me about my own option on the matter! You didn't ask me how I felt being forced to go to all those parties. Didn't even regard my feelings on how I felt being looked over like some prized cow by those horrible princes you tried matching me with."

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," he apologized. "I know I'm not the perfect match-maker, but I am trying my best. This kind of thing would be something your mother would have been good in…" His voice trailed off, and she could picture him trying to get himself together as he mentioned her mother, even though she knew he felt like crying. "Anyway, I know I should have asked your opinion, but I'm only trying to do what's best for you."

This time Flora was the one who flinched, feeling uneasy shame settling inside her. But this time the shame was aimed at herself. Here she was, a seventeen year old princess taught to be proper and elegant, sobbing in her bed like a child and acting like ungrateful brat towards her father who was trying his best to do what he thought was best for her.

True, her father wasn't the most match-maker in the world. True, he drove her up the wall more than half the time. But he was her father and she still loved him. He could have simply picked her husband and forced her to marry him, but he was giving her the chance to choice, which showed to her how thoughtful her father was and how much he cared about her. Although she was grateful for that and touched by his gesture, she still wished he'd let her find her own prince _her_ own way.

Slowly the weary princess lifted herself off from her bed and walked through the French doors, leading outside to her balcony which featured a beautiful, grand view of her magnificent kingdom. She imagined girls her age walking freely through the streets by a friend by their side or walking solo, without worrying about being recognized and being crowded by people, no need of a strict escort to walk their side that scared away anyone who'd even glance at her. What she would give to have such life, to be among other people without getting any special treatment and live her way.

"Tell me what can I do to make you feel better?" her father asked. "Name anything you want, and it'll be yours in a second. What do you want, dear Flora?"

She looked out longingly at her kingdom, wanting nothing more than to fly away and see the outside world, being free of so many rules controlling her life. She then eyed the high stone walls surrounding the whole castle from acre to acre, encircling around the entire estate. To other people, the walls were meant for protection and were barriers protecting the king and princess. To her, however, they were restrictions meant to isolate and kept her prisoner in her own home.

"To be a normal girl." She murmured, feeling tears welling up in her eyes and did nothing but let them fall freely.

_To be a normal girl and see the whole kingdom outside the walls_, she thought as hot tears streamed down her face. _To see a whole new world out there_.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Whole New World Chapter 2**

What was it about mornings that never failed to make him feel so…alive?

Was it because he was born in early dawn?

Was it because he found the time to be so peaceful once he saw sight of the sunrise?

He really didn't know why, but did knew there was something about waking up at early dawn and looking out the window to watch the beautiful sunrise that was like his personal cup of coffee helping him get through the day.

The moment the sun slowly rose, the young man stirred in his tiny bed before slowly opening his aqua eyes. Quickly getting out from bed, he grabbed his sketchbook and charcoal, went over to his window just in time to watch the sun slowly rising, and drew the basic outline of it in a fresh, new page in his book.

As an aspiring artist, he loved drawing things that sparked his fascination or inspired him. The sunrise and sunset were two basic inspirations he loved drawing in his sketchbook every chance he got, along with writing poems in his journal every free moment he had when he wasn't busy. Drawing-art in general-and poetry were two talents he discovered when he was younger, and he loved doing them because they always took him away to a private world, his own paradise that made him forget about all the pain in his life.

The handsome, aspiring artist was known as Helia Gabriel, a young man who didn't have the easiest life but was somehow always able to overcome them with a little luck by his side.

He doesn't know much about his early life, but remembers enough to know it wasn't pleasant. His home plant was a place that was so dark it always seemed like it was nighttime there and bitterly cold as ice. He was the only son to a young couple who were traveling performers, two skilled acrobats who were quite good but were very poor. By the tender age of six, he was actually traded by his own parents for a loaf of bread, never looking back and seeing the painful hurt in their young son's eyes as he was given away. He was traded to a wealthy widow, a grouchy and unpleasant woman, in need of a young servant to care for her. He worked so hard for so little for the past several years until she died, and he was left on his own.

With his new-found freedom but also with very little money to help him get through, he went to city of Magix in hopes he would gain a better life. He worked over dozens of odd jobs there from kitchen sweeper at a local restaurant, busboy at a café, and cleaner at a petting zoo. Even though he had worked and was making money, he was homeless but thankfully wasn't alone. He made a friend at Magix, an elderly man named Saladin who didn't have much but always happy to share what he had, treating the young boy like he was his own grandson.

Unfortunately, the year he turned twelve, Saladin died and the boy was left on his own again-with no work or money to support him. He started working again as a servant-this time to a king in Solaria, who was a bit kinder than the old widow he worked for. From late childhood to early adolescence, he worked from kingdom to kingdom as a servant for a king or queen in different realms, having the opportunity to travel nearly all over. By the time he was seventeen, he came to Linepa and came across the king who was kind enough to give him a job at his palace.

He had already heard about the King Edmund from the other kingdoms he worked for, hearing his name spoken in whisper by the gossiping ladies in court or kings discussing an alliance between the kingdoms over dinner. He heard enough to know the king was a widower trying to raise his daughter on his own after the queen, dying quite young, died from complications of childbirth and how wise of a king he was, always careful around decisions centering on his kingdom.

King Edmund, he would have to say, was one of the kindest kings he ever met and also one of the generous people he ever worked for. Unlike his previous masters, he didn't treat his servants like they were slaves he could push around whenever he wanted, but treated them with enough respect and kindness. He made sure everyone who worked for him was treat good care of, feeding them well and paid well for their services. He even had a special quarters-featuring a kitchen large enough to room thirty-five servants, dozens of bathroom for them to bathe and fresh-up, and each person had their own room.

Though the room was a bit small with no enough room for additional space besides his bed, was a bit bland with its plain colors, Helia was still grateful for the amazing view his window had of the realm that was perfect for his drawings.

When he was given the job as the new servant, King Edmund made sure he felt welcome into his home and personally introduced him to everyone at the castle-including his own daughter, who was a year younger than him.

Slowly Helia lowered his piece of charcoal, pausing with his drawing for a moment, and stared at the sunrise with dazedness in his eyes. Her imagine swept across his mind before his very eyes, putting his troubled mind at ease: her lustrous, flowing caramel hair cascading down her back, her emerald eyes soft with joy shining in them, and her soft pink lips curving up into that beautiful smile.

He was already aware the king had a daughter who was said to be a true beauty, but really saw how true those words were when she walked into the throne room after she was summoned by her father and introduced to him.

Flora, that was her name he constantly got chills from saying and thinking of, was radiant as a beautiful rose fully-blossomed in the spring. She had a type of beauty that was unbelievable, too natural and also so breathtaking angels would envy it. Her beautiful, angelic face was framed by locks of her lustrous hair, which was a brilliant combination of dark blonde and light brown, giving it a beautiful caramel shade. Her skin was tan and flawless, featuring not even a blemish, and her slender figure was being hugged by a forest green spring dress that made her own eyes bigger and greener.

The moment he saw he walk gracefully into the room, practically gliding like an angel, he was stunned into a silence and could only stare in awe as she curtsied before him. He wished he could say something, but his heart leaped into his throat, and no words could come out. She didn't even seem to mind it; in fact, she seemed to find it amusing. He could tell by the certain gleam in her eyes as she looked at him, her eyes smiling as well as her lips.

Seeing that smile made one thing came to him: he had fallen for her-_big time_.

After that moment, he couldn't get her out from his mind. He has seen her plenty of times before, but quite rarely. The king was quite protective of his daughter, not really recovering since the death of his beloved wife, and so the princess was never alone for a moment. Wherever she went to, she always had someone right by her side-an escort, a servant, or the king himself. And the only times Helia did actually see her was during meal times when he called to serve them, or at balls and parties the king Edmund threw. But even though he saw her little of the time, that didn't stop him from falling more and more for her.

What he would give to have just a minute, a moment to be alone with her? He didn't even know what he would do or say if he was given such a wish. But did know he would tell her she was the muse in most of his poetry, filling up most of the pages in his notebook, and was the face he loved drawing in his sketchbook. He would tell her how beautiful he thought she was-both inside and out. And, if he was bold enough and able to do it without backing down, he'd tell her how he felt about her.

He wondered what she would do if he were to tell her? Probably, without a doubt, in his mind, she'd stare at him in shock before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. As harsh as that would be, and even though he knew the princess was far too kind to do something like, he knew it wouldn't be too typical if that were to be her reaction. She was a beautiful princess, he was a poor servant. He had only ten dollars in his pocket, had nothing to offer her, and they ran in two different circles.

_But what if she saw all past that_, he wondered, already thinking of the possibilities.

"Still daydreaming again, aren't you, daydreamer?" Helia's thoughts were soon interrupted as he heard that familiar loud, foreign voice. That voice belonged to Cordatora, nicknamed Cora the terrible by the servants since he severely punished them if they don't get the job right, was the King's most trusted bodyguard and head butler whose job it was to make sure the servants did their jobs and did the jobs right.

Mentally rolling his eyes, Helia turned back to the older man and slightly bowed before him. "I was only thinking. What can I do you for, Sir Cordatora?"

"It looked more like daydreaming to me," he chuckled slightly before becoming serious. "The princess and Lady Disprao are at the rose gardens and need tea. The princess requires her favorite rose tea while the Lady prefers her with brewed water, skim milk, and light on sugar-organic sugar. I want you to be the one to deliver the tea for them."

After Cordatora left, Helia quickly tucked his sketchbook under his pillow and got dressed for the day. When he was done with his shower and brushed his teeth, he came back to his room to change into his uniform, which consisted of a loose white long-sleeved shirt he made sure was ironed, black pants, and black loafers. He then ran quickly to the kitchen where he saw a servant and a maid cleaning, deeply engrossed in the conversation they were having that they didn't even notice him standing there.

The servant was rather scrawny type of boy with organish-brown hair and brown eyes hidden behind his square-framed glasses named Timmy, whom Helia was very closed to and seemed to be the only friend he could call his best friend. The maid was a seventeen girl named Musa, who was attractive with her creamy skin and dark hair that matched her eyes, but she was more of a little sister to him. The sister he never had but still wanted. She was a close, good friend to him and Timmy as well as a sisterly companion to Princess Flora.

"Are you serious?" Timmy asked, scrubbing the countertops hard with elbow grease.

"Dead serious." Replied Musa, who was sweeping the floors. "She actually slapped him right across the face after the jerk had the nerve to kiss her in front of everyone. If it were me, I'd kick him somewhere particularly hard so he'll never be able to have children."

"Who in the realms are you two talking about?" Helia questioned as he walked into the kitchen, receiving a sisterly peck on the cheek from Musa while he and Timmy did their own personal handshake as a sign of greeting.

"Princess Flora." Musa answered.

Hearing her name caused alert and protectiveness to fuel inside him, already hearing loud alarms and whistles going off in his head. "Did something happen to her?" he asked worriedly with a tone of urgent, as if she were injured.

Musa and Timmy shared amused looks, knowing Helia's true feelings for the princess and how immediately he became protective of her when it came to her well-being.

"You mean you don't know already?" Timmy said.

"Know what?" he asked, confused.

Realizing he might not have been there to witness the moment, Musa explained to Helia what happened yesterday between the princess and the new prince the king wanted her to meet. The prince was the cocky Prince O'Neil who actually kissed the princess in front of everyone, acting like she was his piece of poverty he could do whatever with, and how the princess smacked him twice before leaving in tears.

When Musa was done telling him, Helia was silent with his tight fists clenched to his sides while anger was fueling inside him, growing at a fast and dangerous rate while his blood boiled. At the moment, he would have given anything to find that arrogant O'Neil and give him the kind of beating the arrogant devil would never forget.

He was so lost, so consumed in his anger and the thoughts of what he would do to the

Prince, he didn't realize how tight his fists were becoming until he felt a painful sensation burning in his knuckles. After that, he realized he was wasting time thinking when tea was expected to come to the ladies.

"Oh bother," he groaned, running over to the cabinets to find some of things he was going to need. But the time he opened them, he saw they were practically nothing left. Panicking, he turned back to his friends, who were arching their eyebrows questioning at him, and asked "Where is everything?"

"Empty," Timmy shrugged. "Because the prince kept making the chef and his crew take back and remake his meal, they used practically everything in the kitchen. Jared, W, and Mirta went to the market place to buy more food."

"And the princess and Diaspro are waiting for their tea," He ran his hands through his hair in frustration as he paced around the kitchen, trying to think of something. "What the hell am I going to do? The princess is waiting for her tea, and I have no tea. I'm wasting time just pacing around. And Cora the terrible is going to have my head-"

"Helia!" Musa exclaimed, cutting off his panic attack and getting his attention. She smiled secretively at him, as if she knew a secret she knew he wanted to know, and then snapped her fingers at the countertop. Streams of red escaped from her fingertips, swirling into a small tornado until it exploded into a dazzling display of light once it hit the countertop. By the time the lights disappear, blowing into smoke, a sliver platter tray filled with two tea kettles filled with hot tea and cups, a mini tower of oven-hot stones, and another tower of fresh-baked muffins.

Still smiling, Musa weighed the heavy tray in her arms and handed it over to Helia, who felt how much heavier it was than it appeared and was struggling a bit to keep his grip on it. Even though he was struggling, he still was able to shot Musa a grateful smile, never feeling any more grateful till that moment for having a friend who was also a magical fairy, before rushing out from the room.

With that smile still on her face, Musa sighed as she turned back to Timmy, who was wearing an amused smile on his face that was similar to her. "He's completely love-struck, isn't he?"

"Indeed." He nodded, causing them both to laugh.

...

"I really don't understand you sometimes, Flora," said the snotty blonde fanning herself with her delicate, red Chinese-styled fan as the girls walked along the path through the red rosebuds the princess wanted to see, with Cordatora walking behind them but also keeping a good distance, watching their every move and keeping his eyes open for any possible danger. "Prince O'Neil is a fantastic, edible bachelor nearly every girl in the all realms wants to sink their claws-not to mention teeth-into. Only God knows why you would think of smacking someone like that."

Until the moment the crude girl spoke her statement, Flora was barely paying attention to a word she was saying and directing her attention to the mass of beautiful rosebuds in front of her, already picturing how beautiful they would be as soon as spring arrives.

Even though Flora was a princess, she was a nature fairy who loved Mother Earth and put it first before anything. She loved the trees, the smell of fresh grass, and the scent of flowers lingering in the air-thus, making springtime her favorite season since that was the only time when nature really had its moment. The rose garden was her favorite part of the castle, the only place she could escape to have a moment to herself and was also a place she felt closer to her mother, who was also a nature fairy and loved it just as much as her daughter did.

"Flora!" she flinched at her name, and then sighed as she straightened up and turned back to look into the eyes of an un-amused Diaspro. Both girls were silent as they looked into each other, warm emerald green glaring at cold citrine orange, both knowing the other would rather be any other place than here at the moment.

Diaspro was a princess to another realm, which was a neighboring realm to the kingdom of Eraklyon. Their mothers have been best friends for years, so it only made sense they also wanted their daughters to become close friends, too. Even though the girls were always arranged play dates since they were toddlers and visited each other often, the only relationship they had was a forced acquaintance. And that being because the girls were too different from each other. Flora was shy and sweet, born with a gentle soul, while Diaspro was very spoiled and rude, constantly throwing tantrums if she doesn't get what she was wants.

She was a beauty herself with her pale honey blonde, shoulder-length hair, citrine eyes, and fair skin tone, but that beauty seemed to be the only positive thing about her. Like Flora, she was a fairy also-a fairy of rubies-but her cool attitude and obsession with herself, thinking so highly of herself, was what made her seem more like a witch.

"I heard you the first time, Diaspro," Flora said as she continued her walk, and saw Diaspro, along with Cordatora, weren't too far away from her. "I chose not to answer it because I already knew you wouldn't understand."

"What is there to understand?" the blonde princess snapped, throwing her arms in the air. "You have to be married if you want to keep your crown. You need to pick a husband before your eighteenth birthday, which is coming up soon. You know that!"

"I know!" Flora snapped as she whirled around to face Diaspro, not noticing or even hurting the look of hurt in her eyes by her harsh snap. She was too upset herself to even take notice of any person' feelings, too fed up with the rule to even care. She know this was going to happen sooner, that she was going to marry soon before eighteen, but that didn't mean she loved it. "I know." she repeated, her expression softening.

Seeing how the harsh lines on her face vanished and noticed tears welling in her eyes, Diaspro decided to forgive Flora for snapping at her so rudely and took pity on the girl. Her birthday seemed to be getting closer everyday, and she needed to be wed to someone before time runs out. She knew any girl under that kind of pressure would explode sooner or later.

Allowing herself to smile just a bit, Diaspro placed a comforting hand on Flora's shoulder and said "What is that's bothering you, Flora? Usually a girl would be thrilled at the chance of getting married. That's every girl dream to have a big wedding and look beautiful in her amazing dress. I know that's my dream."

"It's mine, too," she confessed in a tiny murmur. She could feel darn tears welling up in her eyes after they were starting to burn, but took control of herself and willed them not to come. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out, she continued, "But I always thought that when I got married, I would be married to someone that I love and who loves me back. My own prince charming who loves me for me, and not for being a princess."

"Love?" Diaspro repeated. When Flora had spoken of the word, she said it in such awe and daze, like it was a dream she wanted to catch. But when Diaspro said it, it sounded like just a simple word that was foreign, as if it was something unimportant. "That's all?"

"What do you mean that's all?" Flora questioned.

"What I meant was-" Before Diaspro could explain, their attention soon was directed toward a dark-haired servant coming over with their tea, but seem to loose his footing as he was walking down the small, steep hill and tumbled down, spilling the items he was carrying and falling flat on his face.

"What is the meaning of this, daydreamer?" Cordatora ordered, but the princess could barely hear his rant. Instead her attention was focused on the poor servant trying to get back on his feet and take control of the situation, and she could tell by way his bottom lip was being bitten hard he was in pain. Forgetting about Diaspro and their conversation, she went over to help him.

Poor Helia was blushing bright red, his entire face bright and red as a tomato, and couldn't even meet anyone's eyes without feeling more shame to himself for being so stupid and klutzy.

If there was one thing he wished he could take back from this moment, it would have him focusing more on getting the tea over to them without them any issue instead of staring at Flora. Everytime he looked at her, drinking in her beauty, his heart would be pounding hard against his chest, knees buckling, and his mind in a trance that completely blocked everything else out-except for her, of course. As he walked down the small yet steel hill, struggling to keep his grip on the heavy tray, he made the fatal mistake taking a quick glance at her that quickly became a long, hard gaze, studying every feature of her into memory.

Unfortunately, because he picked that moment of all moments to stare at her, his mind was an utter blank so he didn't realize he was walking down that hill until the very last second, when he was found himself tumbling down and felt a sharp pain in his ankle as he landed flat on his face.

With his cheeks flushing in embarrassment, knowing he had unwanted attention set on him, Helia tried ignoring the sore pain in his ankle he was sure was either badly twisted or broken as he quickly gathered all the things that fallen as he tripped and placed them back on the tray, which suffered an awful dent from the fall. As he was picking up the items, it suddenly hit him he couldn't give them back anything. The tea had spilled onto the ground or splashed on nearby things, and the muffins and stones were smashed against the ground, looking less delicious and more unpleasant. There was no way he could give them anything now, Musa was too far away for him to ask to make a new set for him, and there was hardly anything else in the kitchen. He needed to think of something.

"Here, let me help you." Hearing that soft, warm voice broke him from his thoughts and he could feel his heart close to jumping out from his chest by the way it was beating faster and harder. He took in slow, deep breaths before slowly looking up, looking right into the beautiful, gentle jaded eyes belonging to the princess. Her caramel hair was shimmering under the sunshine, turning into a soft and rich caramel color, and she smiled softly, almost shyly as she looked brushed her hair away from her eyes before kneeling down next to him.

"Flora-I mean, Princess-I mean your highness…" As he was stammering with the words, his cheeks flamed and were turning brighter by the second.

Flora couldn't resist smiling at his stammering, thinking it was kind of adorable, and Helia couldn't stop himself from smiling once he saw her smile. They continued to smile at one another for a few more seconds, their cheeks feeling warmer as they blushed brighter, and then started to get to work picking things up in silence.

While working, they both spotted a squashed blueberry muffin lying in front of them, and reached for it at the same time, only to pull back in a flinch as an electrical sensation sparked as their hands touched and their fingers brushed against each other. Touching her hand was completely unbelievably…phenomenal. It was so warm, smooth, and soft, surprising him since she usually spent so much time outside in the garden when she wasn't inside, and it felt so unbelievable to feel her hand with his own, which was rough with some cuts from hard work and cooler than hers. But as phenomenal as touching her hand was, the sensation that seemed to spark like fire as their hands touched was also unbelievable as well.

He let go too quickly before he could fully enjoy it, shocked from the strange electric pang. But something inside, those deep feelings he tried to hide, were stirring inside, and something strong was coming over him, almost overpowering him. He looked at Flora and saw, judging by the slightly stunned expression on her face and the way she was staring at her hand, she was shocked by what happened. But there was something in her eyes, an emotion he couldn't describe, swimming in those pools of emerald green.

Their eyes met again, and slowly they smiled softly at each other as clear aqua blue and warm emerald green bored into each other. For those few moments the princess was able to forget she was a princess and the servant was able to forget about all the badness in his life, as everything else unimportant seemed to fade away. Except for these moments and each other.

It was almost as if Helia was living out his dream he dreamt of a thousand times. Only it was real, and he found himself enjoying it ten times better.

Those moments were so wonderful, so amazing he wished it could last forever. As did she. But sadly, as wonderful as it was, it ended quickly as soon as a loud, ear-scattering scream was hard and they both snapped out from the spell of their gaze. They looked at each other for a moment or two, as if to re-catch that moment that happened between them, and then turned to face the source of that scream.

It was Diaspro, who was screaming at the top of her lungs from the tea spills that somehow reached far enough to her and splashed ugly streaks on her red corset dress Helia had a good feeling was new and irreplaceable. After she spent a good ten seconds shrieking at the top of her lungs, her face was bright red with anger and smoke was practically bursting from her ears as she angrily walked over to Helia and jabbed her sharp finger against his chest, nearly piercing his skin.

"_You klutzy, brainless, piece-of-garbage idiot!_" She yelled right in his face. "What kind of brainless slave doesn't even know how to deliver tea without spilling it _and letting it ruin my favorite dress!_"

Cordatora pulled out spare napkins from his pockets and tried helping Diaspro clean her dress, but somehow his effects were only making the stains more horrible and making an already-mad Disprao even madder than before. Smiling sheepishly, he tried chuckling a bit to lighten the mood but saw it was only making things worse. "Lady Diaspro, a thousand times my apologizes. I'm so sorry," As he turned to Helia, his sheepish smile vanished into a tight, angry scowl that darkened his face and his brown eyes hardened into cold, hard stone. "As for you, daydreamer, perhaps extra work will help get your head out from the clouds and more focused on getting the job done."

"But-" Helia tried to defend himself, but was immediately cut off by the chilled, ice-cold and anger-blaze glare Cordatora gave him.

Continuing on, as if he didn't hear Helia, he barked, "For the next two months, you're on stable duty. And are expected to clean after the horses with nothing more than your bare hands, a sponge and toothbrush, and a bucket of water."

Diaspro whirled around to face Cordatora, snapping, "You think two months of cleaning horse poop will make up for the damages of replacing this dress? Do you have even idea how much money and work my seamstress put into to make it for me?" Turning around to Helia, clearly not finish with him yet, she exclaimed "I can understand well enough why you're here. Your parents saw failure in you as a child, and decided give you up was far better than putting up with your garbage. And I can't honestly blame, considering how much of an idiotic, disappointing failure you are?"

"That's far enough!" Princess Flora exclaimed, unable to take even more of the abuse the poor man was going through because of a simple mistake and wasn't going to let it continue any further.

Helia couldn't believe it. The princess was actually standing up for him. For him a lowly servant against a high-spoiled princess and his boss. He had to pinch himself quickly on the arm and blinked his eyes several times to make sure he wasn't dreaming, but even as he found out he wasn't it all seemed to surreal.

And judging by the shock look written all over their faces and how they flinched, as if they've been smacked hard in the face, Diaspro and Cordatora found it just as shocking as he did.

With her hands on her hips and a frown darkening the soft features of her face, Flora said to Cordatora, not even suggesting but full on-demanding, "If there's any speck of kindness in that cold heart of yours, you'll see it was only a minor mistake and give him a break. The tray was heavy-looking and the hill's steep, so you can't blame him for something he wasn't responsible for."

Stunned for a whole minute, Cordatora was still, and it was the first time in so long Helia saw the man was speechless with nothing to say at all. Slowly, his lips sealed and thinned into a tight line, he nodded.

After she was done with him, she turned to Diaspro. The frown on Flora's face morphed into an ugly scowl as she looked at the blonde standing before her, and her green eyes narrowed into slits that were cold as the coldest ice while considering her coldly. "I'd love ask you the same thing, but know you're too much of a witch and so full of yourself to even consider listening to me. But listen to me this one time, if you please," She waited till she was sure she had Disapro's full attention before continuing. "You are a spoiled, nasty brat who's rotten to the bone. You love throwing your tantrums, but I had to put with it for years and now I'm done with it. You're a fairy with magic, so quit whining like a spoiled princess, used a spell to clean your dress, and quit taking out your childish tantrums on him. If anyone is an idiot or a failure, then it would have to be you."

And with that being said, Flora looked at Helia quickly one more time before walking away and making a dramatic exit. Not too soon after she left, Diaspro and Cordatora went after her, leaving Helia all alone in the rose gardens.

He stared at the place where the princess made her dramatic exit, still able to smell the fragrance of her flowery perfume in the air, and still couldn't believe it.

She actually stood up for him. Him, a person no one really noticed or even bothered to know. No one has ever done that for him before in the longest time, with the exception of Musa and Timmy and Saladin who always looked out for him, and the fact it was actually the princess, someone he was sure she had no idea he even existed or quickly forgotten about, made it even more surreal.

_I'll pay you back for your kindness_, Flora, he thought as a smile slowly curved up the corners of his lips. And he knew the perfect way how.

By getting her the wish she always wanted.


	3. Chapter 3

**A whole new world chapter 3**

Exhausted from having to deal with Diaspro yesterday, with her whining and arrogance, and still not fully recovered from the incident with Prince O'Neil, knowing it quickly spread throughout the realm and was the hot gossip everyone was talking about, the princess had no desire to go anywhere the following day. She was able to convince her dad to cancel her lessons with all her tutors for the day, had the maids send on messages to the princesses she was suppose to meet for tea and princes her dad invited she couldn't make it, and was able to have to have the whole day to be herself with no one hollering at her about where to go and what to do.

She spent most the of the day inside her room, rarely coming out except for meals and requested no one was to disturbed her unless it was important. She tended to her plants, flowers, and small rose garden she was growing in her room, making sure they were extra watered and given good soil to help them grow better. She relaxed in her couch and read a collection of her favorite books, nearly reading every book on the shelf, including old fairytale stories she hasn't read in what felt like ages.

Reading about brave sword fights, exciting adventures, and everlasting love shared between the beautiful girl and her Prince Charming near the end of the story, where they lived happily ever after. She remembered when she was little, her father read fairytale stories deeming on romance and true love to the young princess every night before bed and Flora would dream about her Prince Charming she hoped she would meet someday.

Many years have passed since then, but she still remembered it clearly like it was only yesterday. And thinking about those memories made her feel more confused about the situation she was facing with, and brought up some fragments of the conversation she had with Diaspro yesterday.

Diaspro said it was every girl's dream to get married and she was right. Even she, herself, used to be one of those girls who dreamt of being married, throwing a huge and grand wedding, wearing a beautiful white dress that made her feel beautiful like a true princess, and her prince waiting for her at the alter, smiling lovingly at her. But now she was older, no longer than little girl with those dreams, and knew if she did get married then there was a huge chance it wasn't going to be anything like she once dreamt.

The wedding would still be huge and grand, she was sure of that. Knowing her father, money would no worry and he'd go to no expense to make sure her wedding was one everyone remembered for years, making sure everything was perfect from the ceremony to the food. The seamstress would create a belle-of-the-ball, masterpiece gown, making it elegant as well as beautiful. And even though that all seemed amazing, there was still going to be one thing missing as she walks down that aisle.

Love.

The very thing her parents had when they were married, and still remained deep to this day even though her mother was no longer with them. The thing she knew that made marriage more special and worth wild, bringing the joining together and taking it deeper. And the thing she knew whoever her husband could possibly be, it was going to be one thing he wasn't going to feel for her.

The only two reasons the bachelors want her was to be king and have her as a trophy wife. Someone expected to be by her husband's side and serve him, keeping quiet unless needed and being looked over as if she were a prized racing horse instead of a girl. She couldn't imagine living such a life, being married to someone who didn't love her and treated like a possession instead of a person.

She wished she had someone to talk about things like this with, but knew there was really no one who could really understand. Not her father, who was too busy. Not Diaspro, who thought love was pointless and the only point of marriage was to be paired up with a handsome, strong man. No one really.

Frustrated by her thoughts, Flora sighed heavily before she closed her book, placed it back on the book shelf, and went out to her balcony to get some much-needed fresh air. Breathing in the cool night helped soothed her, but didn't completely clear her mind from the trouble. She still needed some sort of a plan and needed it soon.

As she was in deep thought, she barely noticed the paper airplane sent her way till her eyes followed it as the plane whirled around her head, soaring high till it landed on the ground and lightly hit her foot. Curious, she bent down to pick it up, slowly unfolded it, and read what it said.

_Her voice is the whisper of wind sweaped trees_

_Putting my troubled mind at ease_

_Her eyes are lit with the new stars aura_

_I long to be close to my dear Flora._

_Beautiful_, she smiled as she read it over again, feeling her heartbeat racing as she was growing more giddy. And it was signed _your secret admirer _with a small, perfect heart draw in front of your.

She had a secret admirer? This wasn't the first time she had one, because she knew plenty of guys who developed a crush on her. But this was the first time an admirer done something so sweet like writing such an incredible poem for her. She wondered who it could be.

Looking out her balcony, her jaded eyes scanned over the entire area of her large estate of her palace. After searching and searching, her eyes spotted him. Beautiful face, pale yet beautiful skin, alluring and deep blue eyes, and dark, silk hair.

She recognized him as the recently new servant her father hired during the beginning of the year, which was over a month ago. And he was also the same one who served them tea, accidentally spilling everything as he tripped and nearly got blamed for it till she stepped up and defended him.

Although she didn't remember his name, with there being so many servants coming in and going out from her home, she did knew she could never forget a face like his. He seemed almost too perfect to be real, and when she first met him she honestly believed that. He was so beautiful but didn't have a trace of conceit in his features, and those soulful deeply gaze into hers.

She sighed while watching him in the rose gardens, dressed in the hunter green gardening jumpsuit, tending to the roses and treating each one with utmost care. Staring was rude, but she couldn't peel her eyes away from him.

_Could he have been the one who wrote the poem?_ She thought with her cheeks blushing bright red as she felt those strange, tingle butterflies in her stomach from the thought of it.

"Boo!" With a start, she snapped out from her thoughts and whirled around, with her hand pressed against her chest to contain her startled heart and her lips sealed, containing her loud scream stuck in her throat.

She was scared out of her mind, but the fear only lasted for a moment. It quickly decreased into nothing as she looked into midnight blue eyes staring back at her, belonging to a dark-haired girl smiling a bit mischievously at her.

"Musa." She said, trying to sound angry with her and give her a look that says she shouldn't have scared her in the first place. She perfected the look for a minute till her lips, being a traitor to her, quivered uncontrollably and blossomed into a smile reserved for the maid the princess came to love as a sister-like friend.

"S'up." She greeted with a smile, out of uniform-again. Her father wasn't so strict and didn't make a lot of rules for the servants, but he did strongly applied they were always supposed to be in uniform. For the servants, long-sleeved white shirts, black plants, and black loafers with blakc socks. The maids were required to wear long-sleeved blouse and black skirt, with matching tights underneath and black heels, their little hats always presented on their heads and aprons ironed. Musa, being the tomboy she was and rule-breaker, added some kinks to her uniform to make it more her style.

She ripped the sleeves of the blouse she was given, making it a sleeveless tank top and then fixed it up into a one-sleeved tank top. Instead of the black skirt, she wore black jeans that were baggy and tomboy-ish, and her favorite black high-top sneakers she said were much comfortable than "those sissy, girly foot-killers." And instead of wearing small amid hat, she wore a white baseball hat over her long, enchanted dark tied in their usual loose pigtails.

"Oops," Musa fixed her face into an innocent, sheepish expression, placing her hand over her slightly opened mouth. "I'm so sorry. I was being far too causal with my speech, and that is just unacceptable." Fixing herself, she did a low curtsy before Flora and said "Good evening, your highness. I live to serve you and only you, my lady."

Flora chuckled, something she hasn't done in what felt like such a long time. It felt so good to laugh again, and she was glad Musa was the reason why.

Musa was one of the dearest people she made friends with in the castle, a completely true friend who treats her like a normal girl and was her best friend she liked to view as her sister. The two have been best friends for years ever since Musa came to Linepa, a poor five year orphan who lost her family in a fire, and she was hired as Flora's own handmaid. Friendship quickly blossomed between the two young girls after they've met and they've been inseparable ever since. They've been friends for so long, there was no need for Musa to talk and act formal around her like the other maids do and it was because of their friendship Musa was allowed to break a few rules, including voliating the dress code.

Shaking her head at her best friend's ridiculousness and telling her she was crazy while laughing, Flora walked over to her huge, wall-length, walk-in closet. She opened the doors wide and stepped inside, feeling the smooth surface of the polished wooden floor beneath her feet and enjoying the smoothness, looking around for the appreciate thing to wear. With Musa coming to her room at early night, it meant it was dinnertime so she needed to needed to change out from her flimsy pajamas, which were comfortable but didn't quality as appropriate clothes to wear to dinner.

Eyeing nearly every piece of clothing hanging on the rack, she was having trouble deciding what to wear till she finally settled with an outfit: a pink midriff top with puff, short sleeves and dark pink polka dots, a red skirt with a pink sash, below-the-knee pink socks, red heels and a dark green ribbon she tied around her neck into a bow.

"What do you think?" Flora asked Musa as she came out from the closet and modeled the ensemble for her, doing a small twirl.

Until the moment she was talking to her, Musa was too busy playing with a lock of her hair while thinking about something she knew about tonight's dinner plans the master had in store for his daughter. It was something she knew would devastate and anger her friend if she told her, but knew if she didn't get her at least a warning then that would be horrible. She was trying to think of a way to talk her.

"What?" she asked in a bit of a daze, slowly recovering from the affect of deep thinking. Seeing Flora's changed clothes, she knew her friend was waiting for her to give her opinion on the outfit.

"Do you like it?" she asked, doing another twirl. She stopped short as she saw the serious look in her friend's eyes, worrying about it but decided to brush it off.

Cocking her head to a side, Musa eyed the outfit. It was very cute and adorable, very much Flora's style, but remembered the master's request for what the princess should wear for this particular dinner.

"It's cute, but your dad had another idea of what you should wear tonight," She saw the confusion of Flora's face, but offered no other explanation. She walked into the closet and came back a few seconds later with the dressiest gown Flora owed. "This one, on the other hand, reaches his high standards. It's very pretty." Musa added weakly, offering a small and weak smile.

Flora didn't say anything, too busy staring at the dress Musa was holding in wide-eyed, panicked horror. The dress was a work of creation the dressmakers spent weeks putting together and making into an absolute masterpiece. The color was a deep emerald green she was told made her eyes look greener and bigger, detailed with fine sequined lace, a strapless lace-up corset bodice, and a fully wide skirt. But as beautiful as the dress was, it was also a dreaded thing she hated wearing because the bodice was suffocating and the dress itself was uncomfortable.

Because the gown was the finest gown she owed, she was forced to wear to balls and parties. And just recently it seemed to be the outfit her father wanted her to wear when a bachelor prince comes to the castle, wanting her to look perfect and fancy when her possible future husband arrives. Looking at the dress, she realized, with a nervous pang going through her heart, why her father wanted her to wear it in the first place.

"He invited a prince to meet me, didn't he?" After the disastrous encounter with the smug Prince O'Neil, Flora made it clear she didn't want anymore obnoxious princess coming to her home. She thought her father respected her wishes, but it was clear if he wanted her to wear such a fancy dress for this particular gown he really didn't.

Musa glance at her quickly before casting her gaze back at the gown, fidgeting with the lace detail. By the way she refused to meet Flora's eyes and didn't answer her question, it was clear she knew something she didn't want to tell. And she couldn't tell if it was because her friend didn't want her to know because she knew it would upset her or wanted her to find out on her own.

Flora walked over to Musa, grabbed the girl gently by the shoulders, and forced her to meet her eyes. "Sweetie, please. I need to know the truth. Musa, you're my best friend and one of the very few people I can actually trust. If you know something, then I need to know."

She really did hated when Flora would pull that 'best friend' card because by the oath of best friends and her being the best friend, she needed to follow that oath. She tried looking away, but Flora was able to hold her gaze, trapping her with that serious look in her eyes. She sighed, finally admitting defeat, and confessed "Yes, he did. He arranged a meeting between you and a prince you've met before. He hoped with this dinner you both would settle your difference and finally get you to be engaged to someone."

Flora frowned, trying to come up with something. Thanks to the many meetings her father arranged for nearly every prince in the magical universe, their faces were a constant blur and the names entangled together into blurs, too. She bit her bottom lip when she couldn't think of anyone, knowing all of them she didn't like one bit. "Who is it?"

For the longest time Musa didn't say anything till she finally broke down and uttered one name that shocked Flora into silence.

"Prince O'Neil."

Hearing that name slipped out from Musa's lips caused Flora to freeze in shock, both physically and mentally. Memories of him being so arrogant and kissing her in front of everyone, disgracing her and making her feel like a fool, caused her stomach to churn in nausea while she was trying to remind herself how to breathe.

Meanwhile, Musa continued talking, aware of shocked Flora was but knew she would want to hear the rest. "I, and pretty much everyone else, was shocked to see him again. I wasn't able to hear what they were staying because the walls between the kitchen and dining room were too thick for even my sonic ears to hear. But I did hear the word 'marriage' being discussed between the two of them. I don't want to freak you out, Flo, but I think they might be talking about…well…"

_Prince O'Neil possibly being my fiancé?_ Flora's eyes widened in shock, her blood immediately turning cold and numbing her body from the thought of something so horrible.

She couldn't believe it; she didn't want to believe it. But she wondered if her father was starting to get too impatient with her and decided he should be the one to pick the husband for her. If so, then was he actually considering matching her up with someone who was clearly her opposite and she hated? Where her father and the prince actually in the dining room right now discussing plans of the wedding over dinner while she was still left out in the dark?

Not wanting to wait around to think about it or without a moment delay, Flora immediately ran out from her, with Musa coming behind and running besides her, heading straight to the dining room in hopes she wasn't to late of stopping plans for a horrible future for her.

_Please, let this be some kind of dream_, the princess thought as the two girls raced down the staircase and made a turn to the left as they entered a wide hallway. _Or some kind of joke we'll laugh about later._

She tried to tell herself this, trying to keep positive, but she had a strong feeling in the back of her mind it really wasn't. And she was hoping with everything she had the feeling was wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

**A Whole New World Chapter 4**

While the princess and her friend were racing over to the dining area in hopes to stop plans to what could be the princess's forced marriage, the king was taking slow sips of his wine while refusing whatever dish the servants would bring him, requesting it be taken back. Right across from him, rising his glass as if to give a toast before sipping it, the prince smiled at the king, thinking everything was working out marvelously.

With that smile on his face, Edmund saw confident and that was something he wanted in someone to look after his little flower girl. But then saw smugness he was able to see, making him take back his thought of before and going over his problem again. The king could understand why Flora wouldn't like being paired up with a husband like him, aware of his reputation of being a terrible womanizer who liked using women for his own purpose, his coldness and arrogant confidence blinding him to anything else but himself, and there was also that little incident involving the prince forcing his tongue into Flora's mouth and ended up with a hard slap to the face for that. But on the other hand, he was also strong, able to give Flora everything she could possibly want with his enormous wealth, and will be able to provide for her.

Drumming his fingers on the table, Edmund frowned as he thought more about two choices he was dealing with. He knew his daughter would hate him forever if he were to forced something like this onto her, but also saw they're seemed to be no other choice. Flora didn't seem to like any of the princes and time was running out for her to find a husband. Although she and O'Neil were different from each other, there might be a chance they could learn to like one another over time.

"I don't know, Prince O'Neil, if my daughter would agree," The king said, taking another gulp of his wine and waited till a servant filled it up to the top before swallowing it down in one gulp. "No offense to you, but after the little stunt you pulled with her, she never wants to see your face anywhere in the kingdom."

"I can completely understand why she must feel so embarrassed since I did it in front of everyone," the prince said, continuing to smile his charming, suave smile. "However, I was simply trying to make a statement, your lordship. To give her something to remember me by." He smiled innocently, as if the whole thing and humiliation he put Flora through wasn't as horrible as everyone else made it to be. He snapped his fingers, calling for service, and waited till a maid came to refill his glass with water. He finished the drink in one gulp and wiped his mouth cleaned with one hand, flicking the water drops off his hand as he slightly flickered it.

Knowing how badly Flora was hurt by that stunt, the king would have never wanted the prince to show his face around here again. But he was also someone who was fair and believed in giving second chances to people, so he decided to give that to O'Neil.

"Your lordship, a thousand times my apologizes and I hope you and your daughter will find it in your hearts to forgive me. But here's the thing you must understand, your highness. The princess sooner or later has to choose a husband before her next birthday or else she loses the throne. And I'm seeking a perfect wife to be married to before my next birthday, too. As you know, I'm a very desirable bachelor wanted by many women. But it's your daughter I want as my bride. She'd be a fine wife to me and I'd be a good husband to her."

"My daughter is _not_ fond of you." The king protested, unsure if he was starting to like or be worried about the cold smugness heard in the prince's voice.

"But that can all change, your highness," the prince smiled, his dazzling smile slowly turning smug ascoldness began to show. "If you simply demand the marriage."

The king frowned, looking at the prince coolly with his kind eyes suddenly going cold and narrowed into slits. "I think not. Young princesses often forced into marriages are miserable because they are unhappy and had no say in it. I will not do that to my own daughter."

Slowly O'Neil's smile began to dim bit by bit till it completely vanished, and his face darkened as a dark, tight scowl came. The prince was always used to getting whatever he wanted, whether it's a thing or person, and in the end he always gets them. He desired King Edmund's daughter but his highness was making his patience quickly ran out. He could see the king was going to need some_ encouragement_.

Slipping out from his seat and dismissing the maid who wanted to refill his glass, the prince walked over to the king and placed a firm, tight-squeezing grip on his shoulder. Doing such a thing was considered treason, something that could easily have him banned from the realm or worse-put on the death. The king opened his mouth, prepared to call guards in to escort O'Neil out, but stopped mid-short as he looked into his eyes.

Cold as ice and the color of frozen water, glowing brightly like some sort of white fire burning inside the heart of ice. They seemed to be churning slowly, as if they were coming to the rhythm to the tune of an eerie, slow music. The king tried to looked way from those eyes, feeling his mind was becoming blank and he was losing control of himself. But the longer he looked into those eyes; his expression was slowly turning blank and robotic as those luminous eyes continued churning.

The prince darkly smiled with satisfaction, seeing he had his highness's full attention. "Now listen to me very carefully, my lord," he said, his voice smooth and oddly soothing. "You want your daughter to marry me."

"I want my daughter to marry you." The king repeated.

_Who knew controlling the mind to a king could be this easy_, he smirked and continued "You will demand that she becomes my bride and give her till noon tomorrow to make her decision. If not, then you shall simply forced the marriage on her or banish her. Now repeat after me, King Edmund. Flora."

"Flora."

"I've made a decision."

"I've made a decision."

"Since you are not capable of choosing a husband, I decided to step in and pick him out for you. And I've decided the lucky prince you will marry shall be the noble Prince O'Neil. My decision is final, so don't waste your time trying to change my mind. I will give you till noon tomorrow to make your decision. If you are truly my daughter and wish to be queen, then you shall marry the nobleman. If not, then you shall be kicked out from the castle and banished to the streets. Reduced from a high princess to a lowly homeless beggar."

"Since you are not capable of choosing a husband, I decided to step in and pick him out for you. And I've decided the lucky prince you will marry shall be the noble Prince O'Neil. My decision is final, so don't waste your time trying to change my mind. I will give you till noon tomorrow to make your decision. If you are truly my daughter and wish to be queen, then you shall marry the nobleman. If not, then you shall be kicked out from the castle and banished to the streets. Reduced from high princess to a lowly homeless beggar."

_This is going even more marvelous than I thought_, Prince O'Neil smiled wickedly. He couldn't wait to see how his soon-to-be wife will react once she hears this.

He snapped his fingers, and the king was released from his trance, shaking his head while trying to process what happened to him. And the moment the king was released from the spell, the princess decided to make her appearance, bursting into the room with her dark-haired friend by her side.

"Father!" The moment the princess came over to the table, she leaned against the chair while Musa was leaning against Flora's shoulder for support. They were both breathless from all that running and took a few moments to catch their breaths.

"Daughter, at last you've come," he smiled and then frowned as he saw the outfit she was wearing, seeing she wasn't in the dress he told Musa to have her dressed in. "Explain yourself, young lady. Why are you not in your fine gown?"

Flora deliberately chose not to answer his question, but asked one of her own while pointing at the prince she refused to look at. "Why is he here?"

"It's rude to point, my dear. And the answer to that question is quite simple," the prince walked over to her with that vile smile on his face she wanted to wipe clean from his face, preferably wiping it clean with a good smack to his face. "I'm here so your father and I can talk about details to our magnificent wedding. If we want to have a wedding, then we need to start planning soon."

Hearing those words made Flora feel like fainting, but she was able to stand her ground although she was too shocked to say a word. Musa was shocked just as her friend was, but she was able to say what was going through Flora's head. "Arrogant, two-faced, jerk-off prince say what now?"

"I hope you aren't deaf as you are clueless, slave." Musa was ready to make him eat his words till Flora snapped out from her shock and was trying to hold her friend back while turning to her dad, hoping he'd offered an explanation but he was avoiding her eyes.

"_Married?_" she asked, feeling sick to her stomach as that word slipped out.

"Your highness, no offense but _have you completely lost it?_" Musa demanded.

Sighing, he finally turned to meet Flora's eyes and his heart nearly scattered into pieces, hating to see his precious daughter upset. He then quickly turned away and demanded everyone to leave the room immediately, waiting until everyone was out the door and the door was shut behind them before standing up from his chair and facing his daughter who was looking both betrayed and angry.

"So…" Her father licked his dry lips nervously, his eyes glancing around anywhere needed to be seen so he wouldn't be forced to see that hurt in Flora's eyes again. More than anything did he hate seeing his daughter upset. "Would you like some honey-coated biscuits for dessert? The chef made them for the occasion and I know much how you love biscuits. Or maybe some cake?"

Flora was silent as she stared at her father, unsure whether to laugh in disbelief till her sides hurt or scream in anger at the top of her lungs. Both seemed so good, she had a good mind to do both together as a way to let her emotions out. But she was a princess and was taught to keep her emotions under control, never wanting to let anyone see her in distress. Not even her own father.

"How can you do this to me?" she asked in a low voice, feeling tears sting in her eyes but willed them not to fall.

He turned around to finally face her, but his eyes quickly darted over her head. He figured looking at her forehead was much better than making eye-contact with her. Anything was better for him than looking her in the eye and seeing the pained hurt in them. "Flora, I'm so sorry you had to find about this thing this way. I wanted to tell you-"

"How can you do this to me?" she nearly yelled, and her dad flinched by the sound. The stinging sensation in her eyes was starting to badly burn, the tears impatient and begging to fall, but she still resisted and tried to keep them in.

He tried offering her a soothing smile, which she thought looked a bit forced and unconvincing, as he placed his large hands on her small shoulders, giving them a slight comforting squeeze but only made her more tense. "I know you might not like this, but with time I'm sure you can see things my way. I'm simply trying to do what I think is best for you."

"_**WHAT'S BEST FOR ME**__**!**_" Whenever Flora was upset, she'd go to her inner peace, which was a beautiful meadow in the middle of the woods with beautiful flowers surrounding her, falling back on the fresh grass, and feeling the sun on her face. Thinking about that image always made her feel so peaceful, but this time the image couldn't help her. She tried to hold onto it for as long as she could, but finally she couldn't hold in any longer and exploded.

At first the king stared at his daughter in shock, stunned by her explosion. His Flora was usually soft-spoken and quiet, so seeing her explode like that was just shocking to him. But soon his shock quickly turned into irritation by her behavior.

He thought he and Flora's nannies raised her to be a proper lady of elegance and grace, not a whiny brat who complains when she doesn't get what she wants.

"Young lady, I don't appreciate the way you are talking to me," he warned. "And I don't like the way you are talking to me. I know you're not fond of the prince, but he is the best and I know you-"

"No!" Flora cut off. "No, I won't. Because you're not doing what's best for me, you're doing what's best for_ you_!"

"_FLORA THAT IS ENOUGH!_" Wide-eyed Flora slowly cowered away from her father barely recognizing him from his explosive rage. But the king wasn't finished speaking yet, he was just getting started. "I've given you chances to find a husband and arranged for you to meet hundreds of princes, but still nothing. So, since you cannot pick out a husband, it seems I will have to do that for her. And I decided the lucky man shall be Prince O'Neil. He's strong, very well in the social ladder, and will be able to provide for you well."

"But father-" She protested, and then got cut off by the ice-cold look in his eyes.

"I don't want to hear another word from you! _Do you understand me?_" he barked right in her front, ignoring the tears he could see filling in her eyes. He wasn't acting like her father anymore; more like someone who was under the will of a spell. "Prince O'Neil is the man I pick to be your husband, and I will give you till noon tomorrow to make your decision. If you are a queen willing to do anything for her kingdom, then you will marry him. If you refuse, then you are no longer my daughter and you'll be kicked out from the kingdom. Banished to streets and live the rest of your life as a beggar."

"But father-" Painfully searing, bright red stars danced across her vision and a hollow ringing was echoing inside her head as his hand made contact with her face and her head was whipped to the other side. She could feel blood rushing to that spot where he hit her, quickly forming into a searing bruise, and she tenderly held her cheek.

She stared at the man angrily panting standing in front of her in disbelief, barely recognizing him and couldn't believe what just happened.

Her father, her own daddy who read her stories to bed and played tea parties with her, who was kind and always there for her, actually_ hit_ her. And as shocking as that was, what made it ten times more horrible was the reason she got smacked by him. He hit her because she protested against the idea of being married to the arrogant prince and did it out of anger.

"I don't what to hear another word about this, young lady. Are we clear?" he demanded, not even noticing or even caring the way she was shaking and how she looked like she was seconds away from losing control of the emotions she was trying to keep under control.

Nodding her head slowly and crossing her arms against her chest, Flora lifted her head up and really looked deeply into her father's eyes, trying to see anything. What she saw was absolutely nothing, no kindness, no sympathy, nor any kind of emotion to show his reaction to what he just done. It was as if he honestly couldn't have cared less.

"Fine. But how about three?" she said calmly, using a voice that was soft and low but loud with anger and hurt. "_I hate you!_"

King Edmund's eyes widened in shock and his mouth agape, the first signs of reaction he shown since they had this conversation. In his phase of shock, she saw genuine hurt in his eyes. Seeing that hurt in his eyes had a huge effect on her, making her feel so horrible inside.

Never, before that moment, has she ever felt that way or even said those words to her father. He drove her crazy most of the times, doing what most dads do, but she never actually hated him. But then again, he never gave a reason to.

Although Flora felt horrible about she said and wanted to apologize, she still stood her ground and reminded herself the reasons why she said those words in the first place. Her father didn't seem to care her feelings or her happiness if he was forcing her into a marriage to a person he knew she could never marry. He didn't even show any emotion or reaction except for impatient anger when he hit her.

The dreadful, cursed tears she had been trying to hold in were getting stronger with each moment. Growing too strong for her to hold in any longer and she could feel they were a second away from falling.

She quickly ran out from the room before the tears could fall, leaving her stunned father behind in the room and the tears already streaming down her face. But the moment she was out the door, she was suddenly being pulled by the arm, spun around, and was being tightly pinned to the wall by Prince O'Neil who was smirking at her stunned expression and tears.

He sighed as he caressed the left side of her face, not even noticing how she was shuddering and flinching by his touch. "Such heartbreak when a beautiful rose suddenly becomes a weeping willow."

"Let go of me!" she demanded.

"I don't think so, pretty." Before the Linphean princess could blink, he crushed his lips against hers in a desperate, passionate kiss. She tried whipping her head back and forth in resistance, unable to move since he had her in a tight position.

She could feel his lips smirking beneath hers, so she knew he was enjoying what he was doing to her, proving just how arrogant and sick he really was. He pressed his lips more firmly against hers and forced his tongue into her mouth, making the kiss wetter and sickly un-enjoyable.

_This is rape!_ She screamed in her mind as he grabbed hold of her top and tore it open with his bare hands, staring hungrily at bra-clad chests before burying his head into her cleavage. She tried pushing him away from her, but O'Neil was too strong for her. She tried thinking of a spell to help her, but her mind was too paralyzed by what was happening to think of something.

"Someone, please help!" she managed to yelp out, just before O'Neil forced his lips onto hers again in another hot kiss that was more terrible and sick than the last. She could feel his hands on her thighs, creeping under her skirt and trying to tug down on her panties.

_He's going to rape me_, she cried, tears running down her face in constant streaks. She was unable to move, O'Neil had the upper hand, no one could hear her scream, and she was about to raped by the man her father was forcing her to marry.

Suddenly, as just as his hand was about to enter inside her, the prince was pulled away from Flora and she was freed. Gasping slightly under her breath, she sank down to the ground and held herself tightly, trying to hold herself together and willing herself not to cry anymore. She looked up and saw the dark-haired servant and Musa were standing protectively in front of her, and looked up just in time to see the servant give the Prince a hard punch to the jaw that knocked him down to the ground.

While Helia was looking down at the fallen prince with hatred in his eyes, Musa rushed over to Flora and scooped her friend in her arms into a tight, comforting hug. She allowed the princess to cry on her shoulder, and she gently rocked her back and forth while trying to use some magic to get her clothes back together and fix her up.

Hatred and anger were the only things Helia felt at the moment, which were boiling hotly inside him. Looking down at the fallen prince only made that anger and hatred grow stronger, and he was barely able to resist the urge to kick him repeatedly in the stomach till the prince was coughing out gallons of blood.

Growing up mostly on the streets, Helia needed to learn the skills of fighting in order to defend himself. He learned a few easy defense moves from various people, but mostly learned everything about fighting from Saladin. Although he was told he was a good fighter and would fear into his opponent, Helia believed there was no point of it unless it was required for an emergency.

Being a pacifist, he took a vow never to engage in any sort of violence. But seeing what Prince O'Neil was about to do to Flora-his Flora-made that vow seem so unimportant at the moment and he had to react.

By punching him hard in the face, nearly bursting his jaw out with that one swing.

Slowly Helia peeled his eyes away from the prince and looked over his shoulder. The fury that was exploding inside his body, close to erupting like a volcano, quickly cooled down into nothingness as he looked at the princess.

His highness had her face buried in Musa's shoulder, her body shaking from her sobs and sounding so miserable. Her clothes were tore, her hair looked anything but marvelous, and even from where he was standing he could tell her face was streaked with tears.

But even so, she was still the most radiant creature he ever seen.

_Now's not the time to admire, Helia_, he reminded himself. _Now's a time to get serious._

Turning his back completely on O'Neil, the noble servant kneeled down in front of the girls. He slowly placed his hand on his shoulder, tapped it lightly, and waited till she slowly lifted her face and turned to him. "Are you alright, my lady?"

She nodded her head slowly while sniffing, her eyes sad but her face showing traces of a faint smile. "Thank you." She mouthed.

"Just who do you slaves think you are?" Prince O'Neil demanded once he got himself off the ground and towered over them, darkly scowling.

Helia got up from the ground, and Musa got helped Flora onto her feet before gently pushing her behind them.

Ignoring Flora completely, as if she wasn't even there, Prince O'Neil shot daggers at Musa and Helia with his ice-cold eyes. If looks could kill, then they'd be on the ground, dead, with thousands of stabbings and bullets all over their bodies.

"Assaulting a prince and butting in when he's taking care of business," he warned. "I could easily have your heads and jobs in a second as soon as his majesty hears about this."

Arms crossed against her chest and her navy eyes narrowed into cold slits, Musa had not even a slight fear in her as she walked in front of Prince O'Neil and actually had enough attitude to smile sweetly at his angry face. "Listen here, prince-boy, and I hope you listen good because this is a warning I'm only going to tell you once. I don't care if you're some high-class prince or universal king. No one messes with my best friend. Mess with Flora, you mess with me. You mess with me, you're fucking history."

Flora stared at Musa in a mixture of envy and a bit of envy. If there was one of the many things she envied about her friend, it was the courage she had inside her. While she was always timid and extremely shy, unable to mostly speak up for herself, Musa was completely brave and fierce. She was the kind of person who was a fairy version of a fierce tiger, who can look fear in the eye and never back down.

Helia calmly pushed both girls behind him, having a strong feeling Musa was going to try something that would get them all in trouble, and stepped forward to the prince. Like Musa, he easily looked into the prince's cold eyes with fear and smiled with ease, acting like her knight in shining armor. "I, for one, would love to see you try that. I will admit the offense was bold and inexcusable, but I highly doubt it will make the king faze."

"And why is that?" the prince demanded.

"Simple," Helia smirked. "When the king finds out you tired to rape his daughter, the only thing he'll be thinking of is the perfect way to kill a rapist like yourself. I know I would if I were him."

The Prince looked baffled for a moment, but then looked into fear shown in Flora's eyes and started to slowly smile till a wide, cold grin spread across his face. Slowly peeling his away from her, he turned his attention back to the meddling servant and said "Except you're forgetting one thing, you oaf. The princess is my soon to be bride. Thus, making her mine and giving me authority to do with the little whore however I please."

He made a grab for Flora again and she nearly screamed, fearing he was going to try finishing where he left off. But Helia, reacting quickly, caught his wrist and swatted the prince's hand away before his hand could come close to her. The swat seemed careless and light, as if he was shooing away a fly, but it seemed strong enough to make the prince nearly stumble.

"You will not lay a finger on her, you mongrel," he said in a dangerously low voice, his face calm and expressionless while his eyes were cold and deadly. Much colder and more deadly than the vile prince could even muster on his good days. "Because if you do, believe me you'll only live to regret it. I will make sure of it."

"Who do you think you are?" the prince sneered, baring his teeth. "A worthless servant without a penny to his name making threats to a noble, high prince?"

Flora was still scared and shocked by what happened, but she couldn't stand quiet anymore. Feeling the fierceness of courage from Musa going into her, the princess calmly pushed her aside and stood up to the prince. He raised his eyebrow questioningly at her, but she still was able to stand tall. "A servant he may be, but know this, Prince O'Neil. Although he may be poor, he's nobler and has more honor than a pity, sorry excuse for a prince can ever dream."

The Prince snorted rudely as he rolled his eyes, looking at the dark-haired scum standing behind his fiancée and arching his eyebrow coolly at the princess as he faced her again. "A poor slave having more honor than a prince? Is nobler than a soon-to-be king?" He crackled under his breath, the sound brittle and horrible like broken glass. "That's funny, my beloved. Absolutely priceless."

"I am not your beloved!" Flora retorted, scowling. "Nor your bride, fiancée, or even want to considered your friend. You're absolutely nothing to me. In fact, you're just about _dead_ to me."

"Oh really?" O'Neil challenged, an evil glint in his eyes that she found bone-chilling. "You want might to watch your mouth, beloved, and learn how to keep it shut. You're already a pretty face, which is just what I want for a wife. But if there's one thing about woman I absolutely cannot stand, it's when a woman thinks she's so mighty to talk back. Thinking she's so high and mighty when really she's meant to be _delicate_ and_ quiet_." Leaning close to Flora, against her discomfort and invading her personal space, he examined her closely and nodded as if he was pleased. "Such a pretty, pretty girl who'll make a fine trophy wife indeed. But it's the attitude we can easily solve with proper etiquette classes, which will teach you the proper ways of being a perfect, pleasantly _silent_ wife. After all, as my soon to be wife, your only requirement and concern is giving me pleasure in _every_ way possible."

Flora felt all the fear in her body heat up into blazed fury as she observed the cutting glint in his eyes grow darker, crueler as he finished his sentence, his thin, red lips curving up into his infamous cruel smile. It was the same smile he wore proudly on his face when he kissed her the first time they met. It was also the same one he wore when he had her pinned against the wall and nearly raped her.

Slowly taking in a deep breath before letting it out, she acted calmly and normally while looking him straight in those cold eyes of his, seeing nothing but evil coldness and nothingness like how she predicted she'd see. Then slowly she lifted up her left hand and swiftly slapped him right across the face, putting all her body and anger into that smack.

The slap was so hard; his head whipped entirely to the left and nearly turned around. The force itself, which was fueled by all the anger she held in, knocked him hard to the ground and left a bright red hand-print on his cheek that was still throbbing.

Cursing loudly while slowly lifting himself off the ground, dusting off the dirt from his expensive white suit, he angrily glared at the princess. "You little-"

"I will never be yours, Prince O'Neil," Flora said, making a clear statement and leaving no room for argument. "I'd rather face the destruction of my own realm than marry a sorry excuse for a man like yourself."

She spat at his direction with those annoying tears already ready to fall again and quickly stormed off before they could fall again, not caring where she was going as long as she was going to a place where she could be alone and no would see her cry.

After looking down at him and giving him frosted stares, Helia and Musa left the prince alone in the halls. He barely noticed their stares or them leaving, for he was too busy staring at the direction where the princess stormed off to and was in deep thought on how to deal with her.

He thought spelling her father would give her enough persuasive to fall into his arms and get married, but he could use it was apparently going to take more that than.

Looking past her beauty and her seemingly innocent and gentle appearance, he saw head-headed stubbornness that was going to be challenging to get through but knew it was going to be worth it in the end. He remembered how so…innocently stunning she was in her bra and knew with every challenge a fantastic prize always awaits in the end.

If it's going to take destruction on your realm and the endangerment of your people, dear princess, thought the prince. Then this is going to going to be interesting.

"Let the games begin." He smirked and threw his head back, releasing a wicked and sick laugh before walking off.


	5. Chapter 5

**A Whole New World chapter 5**

She hated Prince O'Neil. She didn't know what he may have done, but had a very high suspicion he bewitched her father, which made her anger and detest of him grew into strong hatred that only grew much stronger than before after he tried forcing himself onto her.

She hated her father, the king. Even if he was spelled, she thought the love he felt for his daughter would give him enough power to resist the spell, but she could see she was wrong. And for the horrible choice he was forcing her to make, giving her an unfair option to marry O'Neil to become queen or get kicked out from her home.

She hated her mother, Queen Lily, who dead on her and wasn't around when she needed her the most. Even though she knew it wasn't like her mother chose to die, recalling how her father used to tell her the queen wanted a daughter so badly and she was delighted to find out she was pregant with a daughter, she still neded her mother.

_I just hate everything_, the princess thought as endless tears were streaming down her face, the water mixing with her dark mascara, which was now running down her face in ugly streaks. While endless tears were flowing down her cheeks, she felt so numb and empty inside from all the pain she experienced.

After finally getting away from that monster-like, bastardly demon known as Prince O'Neil, whose eyes she could feel burning holes into the back of her head as she stormed away from him, she went straight to her room.

Musa was with her every step of the way, showing much of how much of a true friend she really was. When they both reached her room, Musa insisted on drawing Flora a hot tub, saying it'd make her feel better. Although her body seemed to be craving that, the princess wanted nothing more than to be alone and dismissed her friend.

Alone in her room, she stared at her reflection with dazed eyes and nearly burst into tears again from the sight. She looked, in one word, horrible. But as horrible as she appeared on the outside, she felt even worse inside.

Even _worse_ didn't seem to describe how she felt. Numb seemed more like it. Numb and hollow, as if there was nothing left in her but agonizing sadness.

Half-heartedly she grabbed her brush and ran it through her tangled hair, trying in poor attempt to make it look decent. She was too tired to fix her torn clothes with a spell, not having any energy in her to do such a task, so she slowly peeled off her clothes and tossed them in the laundry hamper. She selected a sleeveless pink dress with light green spaghetti straps, decorated with flowers and leaves, and had a light green belt with a pale yellow belt buckle slide around her slim waist. She then paired the dress with dark green wedges sandals with light pink ribbon straps tied nearly up to her knees.

As much as Flora wanted to be alone, she didn't want to be alone in her room. The walls seemed like they were slowly moving, as if they were closing on her and every where she turned there were countless reminders of who she was and destined to be staring back at her. Looking at them made a lump form in her throat, nearly suffocating her and making her head feel light-headed.

She knew the rose gardens would be the perfect place to go, with it being her favorite place, and she escaped to there. Being surrounded by the beauty, having the tall bushes and vines containing the beautiful rose buds, watching the trees blow in the direction the wind was blowing, and smelling the rose buds were almost enough to make her forget about her problems.

Almost, but not completely.

Inhaling the sweet, beautiful scent of the roses in the air, Flora sighed heavily as she sat down in the warm, soft grass and arched her back against the jasmine tree that had beautiful, sweet-smelling petals falling onto the ground like rain.

As much as she didn't want to think about what happened, her subconscious couldn't let her forget about it. Slowly each fragment of the memory flashed through her mind, till the whole thing was being played back and she was in tears once again, crying so hard her body was shaking hard.

How in the realms could her father force her to marry someone like that?

As she hurried off to her room, she passed by his study and saw him sitting at his desk, looking…sad for some reason with his face buried in his hands. Looking at him for a moment, she thought about telling him what happened to her but at the last second decided against it. After the explosive anger her father displayed in the dining room, she had a strong feeling he wouldn't even cared.

Or worse, he blamed the whole thing on her. He probably said she should have used magic to help her out in the situation or thought she lead O'Neil on with that forced kiss and seduced him into thinking she wanted something more than that.

Flora tried holding in a sob as she ran her hands through her hair in both sadness and frustration, gripping onto her hair tightly and was in too much numbing pain to even think about the pain her poor skull was going through by her hard hair-pulling. She hated crying because it made her feel so weak and vulnerable, exposed like she was stripped nakes and letting everyone see emotions she was suppose to keep bottled-up inside. But she just couldn't stop crying and the tears seemed like they had no intention of stopping.

She knew she must have looked less like a princess and more like a…horror with tears she was too numb to wipe away falling heavily from her eyes like rain and ruining her makeup, snot dripping from her nose, and her glttering eyes puffy and blood-shot. But she had no annoying nannies to remind her to freshen herself up, warning her a princess should never look less than perfect, so she didn't care about her appearances and let herself cry.

_What am I going to do?_ She wondered, but unfortunately didn't have an answer to her question. She was then immediately snapped out from her thoughts as she heard the sound of snapped twig nearby, her head jerking up while her ears picked up the sound of footsteps coming closer to her. She quickly got up from the ground and turned around, seeing a figure coming closer to her.

Prince O Neil, she figured. She knew he wasn't going to give up too easily and thought he was coming back to finish what he started. Only things were going to be different, and she was going to fight back.

Taking in a calm, deep breath and emptying her head of thoughts, Flora held her hands in front of her protectively, frowning as she saw the figure was coming closer and closer. Her hands began glowing brightly green as her eyes, which were both light as fresh grass yet usually dark, both beautiful and frightening at once. "Try anything, my Venus Gobbler will swallow you whole!" she warned.

As the man took another step closer, the vines deep underground were pulsing loudly like a heartbeat underneath their feet, the pressure of the loud and strong pulses slitting cracks onto the ground encircling him. He seemed not to notice and took another step forward, and she was ready to attack him till she got a look at him.

Aqua, bright yet almost dark blue eyes gazing deeply into her, as if they could see everything inside her she kept buried. Those beautiful blue eyes belonged to a handsome servant dressed in a light green peasant long-sleeved shirt and stone khakis, looking more like a poet than a servant. His pale skin, which contrasted with his dark hair, looked much natural in the night time than daylight that gave it a certain glow, making him more beautiful.

Staring into those blue eyes made those strange, strong feelings come alive inside her, and left her speechless. She blinked twice before shaking her head, as if she was freeing herself from the trance she was in.

He was carrying a small lantern and held it over their heads, shining some light in the dark place. When Helia saw he was looking into the princess's tear-streaked, beautiful face, he was shocked for a moment before smiling softly and bowing before her.

"Your Highness." Helia greeted, blushing slightly and was thankful his long hair was covering his cheeks like curtains.

Despite herself, Flora found herself smiling softly at him and curtsying, but felt so embarrassed by her appearance. Her past nannies always warned her to have her makeup bag with her at all times, but at the time she thought it was silly and was against. Except now she could see why she should follow their advice in the first place. It was in case she was placed in situations like this when someone catches her at a bad time when she wasn't beautiful and looked horrible.

"Forgive my appearance please," She smiled, attempting to fix herself up but had a good feeling she was only making things worse. "I know I must look horrible."

Actually to him, she looked beautiful either way, but he didn't say that out loud because he feared those words would only make her uncomfortable. Or worse, scare her away. So instead, Helia smiled a charming smile that was so unlike O'Neil's smug one and was softly sweet in its' own charmed way, as if he was saying he didn't mind her appearance. Then, as if he was reading her mind, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief he handed her.

Smiling slightly in gratitude, Flora wasted no time using the handkerchief to wipe her tears and blow her nose, doing the action over several times till she was sure she looked okay. Looking at Helia's smiling face, which was starting to get more attractive by the second; she was smiling herself, a bit broader than before, and held the tear-damped, mucus-covered tissue. "I don't suppose you want this back?"

Helia pursed his lips and tapped his chin thoughtfully with his fingers, making her giggle by his display of deep thinking like the suggestion was a tough choice to make. Finally he looked at her with that serious face, done with thinking, his expression firm while his eyes held some laughter in them. "That was my favorite handkerchief to use, but seeing how you have your tears and…nose dripping on it I think it makes more sense for you to keep it." He joked, finally allowing himself to smile, and they both couldn't help laughing.

"How kind of you, dear Sir." She joked, making them laugh harder. It was odd to Flora. Usually Musa was the one who always kept her laughing; being the only one could ever make her giggle heartedly instead of politely, so it was strange the servant standing before her was making her laugh. She really didn't know him that well, other than the fact he was recently new and saved her, but being around him and this close was different.

A good different, though.

After the laughter slowly died down, silence filled between them. It was the kind of silence that was almost comfortable like the type you feel around a friend when things get quiet and also a bit awkward since neither of them knew the proper way to break the silence.

While Helia fixed his gaze on the rosebuds and appeared to be lost in his thoughts, Flora couldn't help looking at his profile.

His dark hair seemed even darker at nighttime, tied in a loose ponytail but had loose strands flowing with the cool wind breeze, looking so fine and smooth she nearly reached out to run her fingers through it. His pale skin was beautiful and nearly flawless, with the exceptions of the few cuts and bruises she could see were signs of the hard work he did. He was definitely tall, about a foot or so than she, and was as lean as he was tall. He had the kind of body that was a perfect cross between a figure too toned to be skinny and also a bit too skinny to be broad, which she found very attractive and appealing.

Completely absorbed in looking at his features and memorizing every detail into memory, she took a quiet step closer and tried to get a better look at his eyes. At first glance she thought they were aqua, but they almost seemed to be a bit darker like teal blue. Very beautiful, intense blue eyes.

When he slowly turned back to her, she flushed as it occurred to her she was rudely staring. She ducked her head, embarrassed and also a bit surprised by what she was thinking.

Helia could feel Flora's eyes staring at him while he stared at the rosebuds, so he turned back to wonder what she needed. As soon as their eyes met, those feelings for her he kept buried were bursting inside him and felt almost as shocking as electricity. He wondered if she read the poem he sent to her. He wondered if she liked it.

He opened his mouth, about to ask the question, but then stopped and closed it tight again. The Princess already been through more than enough tonight and had too much to think about, much more important things than thinking about some poem. "After you and Musa went away, I got a bit worried. I went to check on you, but saw you weren't in your room. And since this is your favorite place, I knew I found you here. Are you okay, Princess?"

She winced, still not comfortable about talking about it. Then she looked into those amazing blues, which were both dark and bright at the same time, holding her gaze with one that was intense but also searching. In those eyes she saw genuine concern for her and was touched. "No, not really," she confessed, managing a small and weak smile while her voice seemed to crack a bit. "But I'm so touched you care about my well-being. You are quite kind."

"I'm only a simple servant dedicated to serving my lady." he said with another bow.

"Nah, you're more than that. What you did for me…was completely incredible. You protected me like a knight," Saying those words she meant to keep inside made her cheeks blush, but she tried not thinking about her bright red blush and continued talking. "Please call me Flora, noble man. I prefer being called my actual name than my titles."

"Flora," He smiling, shivering in pleasure from saying her sweet name, which set pleasurable tingles up his spine. "I'm Helia."

_Helia_, she thought, smiling as he bowed again to her and she curtsied. A fine name for a man like him. "Thank you for what you did, Helia. You were so brave and heroic. If you hadn't come to my rescue..things would have gone really bad."

"The pleasure is all mine, Flora. Besides it's the least I can do. After all, you did save from the wrath of Disprao and my boss."

She allowed herself to smile as she remembered that morning, but soon the smile went away quickly while recalling the horrible, unkind insults Disapro threw at him because of the accidental spill. "No trouble at all. In the end, we both repaid each other by out kindness."

Even he was touched by the princess's words and still in shocked she actually thought of him as some sort of savior, it still wasn't enough for Helia. He was glad he saved the princess from that devil-demon, but still it didn't seem enough to pay her back for her kindness.

He recalled from that morning she helped him out and he watched her leave, he made a promise to himself he was going to pay back her kindness by giving her the thing he knew he desired. Helia was well aware how much Flora longed to see the see the world beyond the walls taking her in.

She clearly needed something to do to keep her mind off things, they were both alone with no one around, and as far as he was concerned the guards weren't coming back from break for a few more minutes. He wondered if he could make her wish come true now.

"Flora?" He asked, waiting till she turned back to him and smiled as he continued "May I show you something?"

"What?" she asked.

...

"Oh my goody goodness." Was all Flora had to say as she eyed the organish-red hover cycle that was flowing a few inches off the ground after Helia started it and walked around it to get a better look from all angles. When Helia took her to an abandoned garbage near the servants' quarters, he said he wanted to share something with her but she never thought it would be something like this.

"A beauty, isn't she?" He said. "It was actually nothing but pieces of scrap metal, but a good friend of mine fixed it up for me as a birthday present to celebrate my twelfth birthday."

"Really?" she said, interested. "Was he a mechanic?"

"No," Helia answered, and a strange look crossed his eyes, which became suddenly hooded like he was reliving through some memories. "He was a wizard, actually. A good, too. And he was also a good friend of mine who was like a grandfather to me, and seemed to be the first person in the longest time to actually care about me."

"What happened to him? What was his name?" She asked, and then immediately regretted asking it in the first place as she watched the sadness deepening in his eyes.

"His name was Saladin," He said, looking at her but not really seeing her, completely dazed like he was living his memories through his mind right now. "And, sadly, he died two days after my twelfth birthday. After that I became on my own again for the next five years. At least till I came here anyway."

"I'm so sorry, Helia." She said with true sincerity. She may have lost her mother, but she was far too young to remember her and was able to escape the hurt. She had no idea what it might be like to lose someone who you remembered and meant so much to you so suddenly.

"It's alright." He said.

A painfully long, uncomfortable filled between them as time seemed to slowly drag on, more awkward than comfortable like she liked it to be, making her feel so anxious and wanted it to stop.

"Do you know there are wide mountains as far as eye can, which are told to bring such peace just by the sight of them?" He finally said, breaking the silence. She arched her eyebrow in confusion at him, but he only smiled a bit at it. "Or that there's an island on a sunny realm where rainbow-colored flowers blossom everyday? And a place where an ocean floor sparkles beautifully like diamonds? There are so many beautiful things I wish to share with you, Flora. So many beautiful things I loved for you to see."

All that did sound beautiful to her, creating such a longing ache in her heart to see such wonderful things. Her eyes widened with the possibilities, and Helia saw she was already on board.

"I want to show what you've been longing for all these years," he said. "I want to show you the amazing sights and travel all over the realm."

"See the realms?" she repeated. "That's always been a dream of mine. I wanted it for so long."

He went over to a nearby desk to retrieve two helmets, one blue while another was pink, and handed the pink on to her. Slipping on his helmet, he climbed on board the bike and gave the engine some gas, which purred amazingly as silent as a kitten.

He held out his hand to her and asked "Do you trust me?"

She glanced down at the pink helmet he handed her before slowly lifting her head up, finding herself gazing into his eyes.

She was careful when it came to true, knowing how helpful and also deadly it can when it's given, and had very few people in this world she could give that, too. Although he seemed kind and saved her, she still didn't know him that well so it was hard for her to decide. But there was a feeling, a strong one buried deep inside, that told her she could.

And even though she didn't know why, she decided to go with that feeling and trusted it. She slowly nodded her head and smiled, smiling once he saw he was smiling back, slide on the helmet that was a perfect fit, and held onto him tightly as she climbed on his back.

He started the bike and they zoomed off, going higher and higher till they were flying in the sky and were off.


	6. Chapter 6

**A Whole New World chapter 6**

She was around the age of five when she discovered she was a fairy, remembering how astonished she was as she noticed magic sprouting from her fingertips, spilling onto the ground and causing the plants and flowers to grow tall at an amazingly fast rate. After that, learning how to control and master her powers was something she spent years being taught, besides on being a proper princess and a wife, by various nature fairies, growing into her Winx and having better control over them.

She loved everything about Winx from the cute outfit she transformed into, having control over Mother Earth, but most of all using her delicate wings to lift her up from the ground to the beautiful sky. If she had it her way, she used those wings to help get herself out from the prison known as her home and live the life she's been dreaming. But whenever she was practicing with her magic, her tutors would always there to keep a close eye on her to make sure she wouldn't do anything and put a powerful barrier to keep her from flying out.

Even though she detested that barrier and her father for insisting the barrier to be kept up when she practiced her powers, she still loved being a fairy and flying. Whenever she was soaring high in the sky, feeling light as a feather while her wings carried her over the clouds, she never felt anything more wonderful than that.

She thought there was nothing else in the whole that could ever replace the great joy she got from flying, but she seemed to be proven wrong. True, Helia's leviabike wasn't exactly the same as her fairy wings, but they were still going high like she did when she's flying and the realm was beneath their feet, looking so small and beautiful to her.

"This is amazing," she sighed, wrapping her arms more tightly around Helia's toned torso and nuzzling her head against his back.

Helia glanced back at her to give her a quick smile, then turned back, and pushed the speed of the engine more faster, making them go faster.

They were moving fast through the sky, the refreshing wind whipping their hair and blowing into their faces. She calmed by their sweet voice filling her ears, practically singing to her, feeling so much better than before.

Below them, was the realm at night and Flora could see what she was really missing over these last few years. She was the princess of Linphea yet she has never stepped outside the castle walls long enough to see what her kingdom really looked like till now. And what she was saw Helia was right about it being beautiful.

The beautiful nature plant was absolutely breathtaking with its' high, wide mountains, tall tress that could reach the heaven skies, flowers blossoming every second and in different vivid colors, and peaceful rivers and lakes clear as crystal and gave such a soothing aura like the calmest sensation. Music drifted from the houses below, the sounds of harps and flutes, accompanied by merry singing and laughing. The heavy scent of the beautiful, sweet flowers mixing together into a beautiful perfume lingered in the air, filling her nostrils with its' sweet scent.

"I can only guess you're finding this to your liking, my lady." Helia smiled, glancing at Flora again and chuckling when he saw her nodding her head with such enthusiasm like a small child.

"Very much, it's so beautiful." She got another scream of thrilled excitement as they nearly plunged down to the ground, before they were lifted back to the sky again.

Helia then began to sing, a beautiful and slow melody as he turned around to Flora, making her smile and her heart melt by his beautiful voice.

_I can show you the world  
Shining, shimmering, splendid  
Tell me, princess, now when did  
You last let your heart decide?_

_I can open your eyes  
Take you wonder by wonder  
Over, sideways and under  
On a magic carpet ride  
_

He purposely let go of the handles of his bike for a moment and she screamed in fear as they plunged toward the ground. Her bare legs were brushing the soft tips of the evergreen tress when he finally placed both hands on the handles and was in control of the bike again, ending their precipitous fall in a smooth-curving ascent. The dazzling stars swam above her head in the velvet sky, and the air hummed in her ears.

_A whole new world  
A new fantastic point of view  
No one to tell us no  
Or where to go  
Or say we're only dreaming_

Though she was a bit ticked off by his stunt, she was having far too much fun enjoying herself and seeing the amazing sights to even stay mad at him and easily forgiven him. She always knew her realm looked so amazing, but never amazing it to be this incredible. So beautiful.

Locking into Helia's eyes, she added her own lyrics to the melody, singing just as beautifulluy to him as they continued to ride off.

_A whole new world  
A dazzling place I never knew  
But when I'm way up here  
It's crystal clear  
That now I'm in a whole new world with you  
Now I'm in a whole new world with you_

He lowered the back into the Evergreen forest and they rode through it, him being quick with his driving and her keeping her arms tightly wrapped around him.

_Unbelievable sights  
Indescribable feeling  
Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling  
Through an endless diamond sky  
_

_A whole new world  
Don't you dare close your eyes  
A hundred thousand things to see  
Hold your breath - it gets better  
I'm like a shooting star  
I've come so far  
I can't go back to where I used to be_

Hills, forest-cloaked at first then rising steeply out of the tress and swelling into rounded rich green slopes. A wide valley so rich and green. A long lake, wide in length as well as height, so black yet somehow the stars above were brightly shining brighter in the sky, as if there was a different world down there.

As they came out from the end of the forest, they were still flying high over the sky and were now at a wide meadow valley where she saw blurs of movement happening below. Requesting he got lower and staring intently, Flora saw the herb she at first thought were beautiful horses were actually fast unicorns quickly speeding through the valley floors, as if they were racing one another, with their silkily, sparkling-entwined manes and tails rippling as they ran.

Once they had gotten down close enough, Flora was able to pet an adorable baby one that looked like it was a few weeks old and was so cute. The little animal's lips curved up into what appeared to be a smile and licked her hand, as if to say she liked her.

_A whole new world  
Every turn a surprise  
With new horizons to pursue  
Every moment red-letter  
I'll chase them anywhere  
There's time to spare  
Let me share this whole new world with you_

A whole new world  
That's where we'll be  
A thrilling chase  
A wondrous place  
For you and me

They sang to each other, their voices melting together into a beautiful note as they hit the finally note, gazing deeply into each other eyes and feeling those strange feelings growing much stronger than before.

After the amazing sights Helia showed her in Linphea, the tour didn't seem to stop there. Working at so many places in many different realms, he was quite familiar with the some of the most speculator sights the magical universe and wanted the princess to see it all.

And she, of course, wanted to see it all.

They went to the Harmonic Nebula, plant of music, where they watched amazing dancers and performers give a thrilling performance at the realm's annual music festival and slow-danced to the soft music being played by the beautiful, vivid-colored, musical stars. Then Helia took her to Planet Oppositus, where they had so much fun running and playing hide and seek in the maze, underneath the bright sun and heavy rain, which the realm's famous weather. And after that fun, they rode on the backs of exotic dragons in Sparks, where they had a race to see whose dragon can fly faster.

A race which ended up in a tie, only calling for another rematch.

In the realm of Tides, Helia took her to that amazing island with the beautiful, rainbow-colored flowers and they swam in the sparkling-watered ocean, where they played with the dolphins and poorly attempted to surf but still had fun even when they spend more time falling into the waters than staying on their boards. They enjoyed the fun and sunshine in Solaria and nearly gotten kicked out in Zenith for making so much noise and having so much fun.

All and all, the night was so incredible and amazing. Flora was having much more fun with Helia in one whole night than the so-called fun she's been doing for the past sixteen years of her life.

"Tonight was so amazing." Flora gushed, smiling at Helia before biting into the fresh blueberry muffin she gotten from the bakery.

After all the sight-seeing and fun-going things they've been in dozens of other realms, the final stop they went to for the tour was the City of Magix, a place she especially wanted to go but never gotten the opportunity to. They explored around the city a bit, shopping a bit for things and picking up delicious food from the cafes and restaurants they stopped at, went to the huge late-night carnival where they rode so many rides and played on games, and then went to the Park to have some rest.

They were sitting on top of a huge hill in the park, underneath a small jasmine tree, having a small picnic with all the food they brought from the small bakery down the street and talking nearly about everything while waiting for the sunrise.

"I take it you had fun." Helia joked, polishing an apple on his shirt before taking a big bite out from it.

"The best." She gushed.

Apart from the visiting the realms and visiting the sights, they also spent a lot of time talking and really getting to know each other, almost acting like good friends who reunited from being away from each other for too long.

Helia learned that Flora was only six years old when she discovered she had powers, and even though she has been in strict, intense training she still remained in her first Winx stage even when she should have been in Enchantix by now. She love going out to the rose gardens for some peace of mind and generally loved Nature the way a mother loves her child, having such a deep and strong bond with it. And how she was completely in love with fairytales and love, saying that was something she always hoped would be there for her one day.

Flora learned about Helia's horrible childhood and his past, feeling so horrible for him and at the same time feeling horrible herself for complaining so much when she obviously had the better childhood. Hearing how his parents gave their own son, their own flesh and blood, away for a loaf of bread was so inhuman and unspeakable. But soon her attention was turned from his parents to his hobbies, which he said were poetry and art, his two main loves.

When she heard him talking about poetry and how he had journals filled of poems he wrote, curiosity sparked in the princess as she remembered about the beautiful poem someone sent her yesterday. Could it have been him?

She finished the last bite of her muffin, then wiped her hands on the hem of her dress, and pulled out the poem she brought along and tucked inside her dress pocket.

Keeping her eyes on the poem instead of looking up at him, anxious and shy, she asked a bit timidly "Did you write this poem?"

When Helia turned around and saw the poem in her hands, she saw absolute shock in his widened eyes and he seemed speechless. He didn't say anything for a long minute, keeping his eyes on poem in her hands, adding more suspicion to her question. Finally he blinked, but did it quickly as he turned away from her, looking embarrassed with his cheeks blushing bright red.

"Well you please read it for me?" she requested.

Hesitantly Helia took it from her hands and cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on the poem and recited it.

_Her voice is the whisper of wind sweaped trees_

_Putting my troubled mind at ease_

_Her eyes are lit with the new stars aura_

_I long to be close to my dear Flora._

Another time filled with silence passed between them, seeming to slowly drag on and on, till it was finally broken by her asking "So you were the one who wrote it?"

He avoided her eyes as he mumbled something under his breath, murmuring it so quietly she couldn't understand him.

"I'm sorry, what?" she said.

" Yes, I am. I'm the one who wrote the poem," Helia confessed. "I'm your secret admirer."

"Oh." She said, surprised.

He wasn't sure why, but Helia decided it was finally the time to tell her how he felt since they were on the subject on his poem and he confessed to being her admirer. He told her his first impression of her when they were first introduced, how he loved drawing sketches of her in his journal and nearly written thousands of poems of her, and the promise he made to himself to give her what she desired, which was seeing the world outside her castle walls.

Once he started opening his mouth, words were blurring out and he couldn't control himself. The more he talked about his feelings for her, the more he spilled. And while he talked, Flora kept her expression thoughtful and unreadable, hearing every word he was saying and listening to it without interrupting.

When he was finally done talking, Flora nodded her head and was quiet for an awfully long time. She looked up at the sky, watching as the darkness was breaking into bright shades of color as morning sunshine finally risen, absorbing all that she had been told. "What is it that makes me so appealing to you, Helia? What is it you like so much about me?"

Helia bit on his bottom lip and tapped his chin, unsure where to even begin when dozens of reasons were already being listed in his head. "I guess the thing I mostly like about you, Princess, is that you don't act like a princess."

"What do you mean?" she arched an eyebrow, confused by his words.

"What I mean is…I've worked as a servant for many different realms and worked for many different princesses. Those princesses were arrogant and ignorant, cared for nothing else but themselves and their wealth, and were nothing but selfish, spoiled-rotten little girls."

Like Diaspro.

Though the name wasn't spoken, it still hung heavily in the air.

"You, on the other hand," he continued. "are the complete opposite. Even though you're a princess who's wealthy and has everything she can ever want, you don't let it get to your head. Instead of being spoiled and selfish, you're kind and modest. You really care about your kingdom and people with genuine care instead of the fake care I usually see. The first time I saw you, you immediately and easily took my breath away. Whenever I see you and your beautiful smile," He paused, moving hesitantly as he placed his fingers on her soft, rose-pink lips and traced them. "I always feel at such peace and knew I can make it through the day."

The move he made was very bold, but she didn't say anything since it felt so good. Feeling his fingers delicately tracing her lips sparked such a sensual warmness inside her that felt so incredible, she didn't want it to ever end. "So that's why you like about me?" she asked. "Because I'm different from the other princesses you met and I'm modest? Not just because I'm beautiful?"

"You're beautiful," he insisted, his fingers moving over to her left cheek, which he caressed tenderly while brushing a few loose strands of hair away from her eyes. "As beautiful as a gentle angel on the inside and out."

She smiled at him softly and placed her own hand over his that was stroking her cheek. Gazing deeply into each other's eyes while those strong, undeniable feelings for one another were growing stronger, they closer to each other and their faces were only a inch away from each other.

Flora couldn't remember a time she ever felt this about anyone in her life. She couldn't remember when someone went out of their way to make her so happy and made her feel so good. Urges so great and strong were building up inside her, nearly ready to explode any moment.

It took nearly every bit of bravery and boldness she had in her body to wrap her arms around his neck, slowly close her eyes, and moved closer to him till their lips finally met in the kiss she has been dreaming and waiting her nearly all her life that immediately took her own breath away.

Helia didn't expect any like that to ever happen, but when it did it was indescribable. The moment their lips came together, moving perfectly in sync like a harmony to music, fireworks set off and were exploding like mad inside him. He never felt anything like this before, never felt such warmness and passion, deep loving and feeling, and knew there was absolutely nothing that could ever compare.

Everything immediately intensified as Helia's strong arms encircled around her in a protective, firm yet gentle embrace she loved, the kiss deepening as she felt herself melting to the ground by the fiery sparks he unleashed inside her. She found herself slowly sinking to the ground with him hovering over her, leaning on his arms and careful not to put too much weight on her, and the kiss deepened even farther as it became more meaningful as well as intensely passionate.

The moment their lips came apart, they were both breathless and panting hard from the intense kisses but didn't dare to break the deep gaze they were in.

"Thank you for giving me, my wish." She said, smiling.

"The pleasure is all mine, Flora." He said, retuning her smile.


	7. Chapter 7

"_Your Highness!" Before heading his title being called, King Edmund has been pacing outside the guest suite for the past seventy-two hours practically nonstop. Upstairs in one of rooms, hollowing agonizing moans and ear-scattering shrieks and dirty curses, which were heard not only throughout the entire large estate but the whole kingdom, the queen of Linphea-his beloved Lily-was going into labor and coming much closer to having their first child. _

_Since the news of the engagement was announced, friends, servants, and the entire kingdom have been in much anxious anticipation for an heir to finally be seated upon the throne. _

_The king himself could barely contain the excitement of finally becoming a father. The kind he always wanted but never had growing up: the type of father who _wanted_ to spend time with his child or children, have fun with them and watch them grow up instead of seeing them only once or twice a year, and basically wanted to be there for them, supporting them. He couldn't wait for the moment when he would come inside, look at his darling wife who was worn-out but still very beautiful, and looking that beautiful baby in his arms, knowing the precious creature was a product out of their love. _

"_Your Highness!" Cordatora rose his loud voice to a near scream, snapping Edmund from his thoughts. _

"_How's my child! How's Lily? How are they both? What does the baby look like? Did she finally give birth?" _

"_YOUR HIGHNESS!" This time Cordatora full-out screamed in his master's face to but off his blabbing. He looked very tired himself, as if he hasn't had a minute of rest. That didn't come as a surprise to the king since Cordatora has been by the queen's side for the past three days since she gone into labor. Going through the not-so settle screams, the unpleasant sights, and the bone-crushing handgrips the queen give when she was going through her painful contractions and needed someone to hold her hand. As if it would make the unbearable pain be a tad less unbearable. _

_The more painful and stronger the contractions were, the more powerful and stronger the queen's handgrip. Up to the point where he could barely feel anything at all._

"_I'm so sorry, Cordatora!" he quickly apologized. "She's been in labor for the past three days and I've been pacing around, taking to calm my nerves down. Which hasn't been easy, I'll tell you-"_

_Instead of yelling again, Cordatora cut the king's blabbing by smacking his beefy hand against the king's thin-lipped mouth, silencing him instantly. He waited and waited for a few seconds, testing the king's ability to hold in his excitement and baddling for awhile, before finally putting down his hand and began speaking. _

"_Your highness," Cordatora hesitated, something the loud-mouth and proud man has never done before, which immediately set the king's nerves on high alert. "I have both good news…and bad news. They both sort of entwine with the same thing."_

_Edmund's excitement quickly died down into nothingness. His blood turned ice-blue with fear at the hesitation and the uneasiness that suddenly filled the air. Had something happened to his wife? Did she lose the baby? Were they both okay? What had gone wrong?_

"_Good news!" He demanded. He wanted, correction-_needed_-to know the good news first to calm the overly-anxious nerves in his body. "Give me the good news."_

"_The good news is your Majesty has finally given birth to your first child," he started. "However, it was a very severe b-section that has taken a lot-"_

_The king barely gave the man anytime to explain. He was already running past him, quickly heading inside the suite to see for himself what was going on, ignoring Codatora's yells of something urgent he needed to know. _

_He quickly burst into the room and stood still for a moment at the sight before him. _

_An elderly, gray-haired maid wiping the queen's sweaty brow with a wet cloth she dipped into a washbasin of cool water every once in awhile, and the woman's two daughters were standing on either side of the bed, trying to make the queen as comfortable as possible. All of three of them wore small, proud smiles on their faces as they looked down upon the new mother lying in bed, but for an odd reasons had bits of sadness in their eyes he couldn't explain. _

_Being propped in her canopy bed with many pillows behind her back and head, looking completely drained of energy was his beloved wife. Her soft and long caramel hair hanging limply by her sides, her flawless tan skin paled to a very serious and sickish greenish color, her breathtaking face aging twenty years, and her bejeweled emerald eyes revealing all the weariness she was feeling. _

_Nevertheless, she was still the most beautiful thing he has ever seen._

_The only thing as beautiful, possibly even more, as his queen was the tiny, precious creature held in her arms and bundled in a soft white blanket. Eyes shut and head pressed against the mother's plump breast, rapidly sucking on the breast milk, the child was completely still and seemed calm. He took that as a very good sign. _

_The queen dropped countless kisses on the baby's cheeks, brows, and forehead, just as she was doing nonstop ever since the baby emerged. Though every inch of her body still suffered tremendously from the pain and after-shock of the birth and slowly broke down on her, she still had enough energy in her to smile down at the little bundle of joy in her arms. _

_When she looked up and saw her husband, she smiled softly and beckoned him to come. She then turned to the loyal maids who struck by her sides, gave them her thanks but through her eyes warned them not to say anything, and dismissed them with a nod and smile. _

_As they left, Edmund took slow, uncertain steps toward his wife till he finally reached the bed and stood beside her. Back and forth, he glanced at his wife and the tiny baby in her arms, unable to believe this was actually happening. _

"_I can't believe this is actually happening." He murmured quietly to himself, trying not to wake the baby. _

_The queen nodded in agreement and gently prey the ravish child away from her breast. There was a drop of breast milk dripping down her cheek, and the young mother lovingly wiped it off with upmost care. "Look at her, Edmund. Such a delicate, beautiful jewel. Our precious flower," She nuzzled her nose against the baby's, making such a beautiful smile crack on her face and soft giggles to escape her lips. "She's perfect."_

"_A she you say?" For some reason, the king had been expecting it to be a boy all these months. Particularly because given the pains the queen suffered and the baby's strong kicks, he was sure the child was going to be a boy. But nevertheless, whether it was a boy or girl, the child was here, appeared healthy, and he was glad she was finally here and that was all that mattered. _

_The queen nodded, keeping her eyes on her beautiful baby girl. She could already tell her daughter was going to make such a wonderful princess, beautiful and kind and caring. She shook her head as she felt blackness creeping into the corners of her vision, becoming bigger with each second, and looked at Edmund, knowing there was at least one last thing she wanted to see. _

"_Hold her." She slowly handed the baby over to her husband, who seemed terrified but still accepted his newborn daughter into his arms. For a moment or two, the king was still and completely awkward while the baby squirmed a bit in his arms, but sooner enough she was relaxed like she was in her mother's arms, which put a smile to his face and he held her closer to him. _

_He already saw the baby was a hundred percent like her mother: same tan skin, same cheekbones and nose, same beautiful facial features, and same golden-brown hair. And, as the baby slowly opened her eyes and looked up at her father, he saw she had the queen's breathtaking emerald eyes. _

"_She's beautiful," he whispered, tracing her cheek with his finger and watching her smile grow bigger. "So completely beautiful. And perfect." He tore his eyes away from his baby for a minute to look at his wife, who somehow looked much weaker with each passing second, but still had that peaceful smile on her face. "But what should we name her, my dear? Daisy? Rose? Your name?"_

_Lily wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. Although there was nothing wrong with naming the baby after herself and she did like the name Rose, she still felt they aren't the right names for her daughter. She wanted the perfect name for her. Something very gentle and beautiful, something that definitely had to be flower-related. _

"_Flora," She eyed her daughter again, seeing the name suited her perfectly. "Flora will be her name."_

"_Flora?" The king let it sink for awhile before finally agreeing the name definitely worked. "Flora. I like it."_

_He quickly pecked Lilac's sweet lips for a moment, tasting her sweetness and letting his lips stay there for awhile, before holding her hand in one hand and holding his daughter in his other arm. Before he thought he was a lucky man, with his kingdom and the perfect wife by his side. But now he can really see he was luckier than ever before. He finally had a child, a beautiful and perfect little girl whom he swore he was going to be the best father he could ever be to her. _

"_Thank you, my love. For giving me the best thing I can ever hope to have." The king was too busy gazing at his little girl to even notice her majesty didn't even respond to his comment. Too swept up in the baby's smile to notice her hollow breathing kept coming slower till it finally stopped. Too wrapped up in his daughter's sweet laughter to notice the queen's hand went dead limp in his as he squeezed it and slipped from his grasp. _

The wise and great Linphean king wasn't feeling so great and wise at the moment, being held up in his study, sitting at his desk and drinking shot after shot of scotch. He had been up here for hours now, ignored the knocks and cries of servants wanting to know if they can help, and spent the whole time thinking about the past as well as the present.

Which all connected to his daughter.

He remembered the day she was finally born. How happy he was, how happy the whole kingdom to have a princess, and how happy his wife was when she finally had a daughter. It was day that was both a celebration and a tragedy, because he gained a beautiful daughter and lost a beloved wife within the same hour on the same day. And, ironically enough, the queen died the same age his daughter was now.

Sighing heavily, he poured himself another drink and gulped the whole thing down in a second, ignoring the buzzing feeling in the back of mind. Nothing mattered to him at all, knowing he was entirely at fault for his actions and he was feeling so worthless right now.

She_ hated_ him.

His own daughter, the only connection he had left to his wife, the only thing he loved and cared about more than anything else, and the one he swore the moment she was in his arms he was going to be the perfect father for her, actually said loud and clear she hated him.

And the odd fact of the matter was he honestly couldn't blame for her that.

He lost his temper. For a moment his anger really blew up at her and she was just there, a target that was making his anger worsening till he finally lost it. Whenever he saw that image in his head, him yelling such awful things at her, his hand swiftly connecting with her face and her face whipping around, and the stunned look on her face as she looked up at him, such horrible shame fell onto his shoulders like a heavy hundred-thousand pound load.

What was worse than him losing his temper at her was the reason behind it: because he was so upset she refused to marry Prince O'Neil. He gotten so angry she wasn't willing do what was best for the kingdom, that she would actually resign from her duties than do whatever it's necessary become queen, and…and…

His highness pushed away his empty glass, done for the night with his drinking. He thought opening up his liquor cabinet and having a drink would help solve his problems, but five drinks later, the only thing drinking was doing was giving him a throbbing headache. He got up from the chair and walked over to the portrait of his wife, the only picture he allowed to be hung in the whole castle while the rest of the photos were stuffed into boxes that haven't been touched to this day.

The portrait was the last one, also in a way the last photo, taken of her before she died. The portrait was beautifully painted at her rose gardens while the queen was eight months pregnant with Flora. Leaning against her favorite weeping willow tree and radiating in her pregnancy glow, she was a vision of beauty dressed in her favorite rose pink dress, long hair tied into a tight bun and her pink and white diamond entrusted crown bestowed on her head, and her green eyes bright as the smile on her face as her hands rubbed her pregnant-stomach.

What, in the good name of Linpea, would she say if she were here now and witnessed what happen at dinner?

If the king knew his wife as well as he knew himself, he knew well enough she wouldn't hesitate for a moment and would ask the question that has been spinning around in his head all night.

Why would he ever force his daughter into marrying someone who she clearly doesn't even like?

Actually, knowing Lilac, she wouldn't ask the question. She would flat-out yelled right in his face the second they were alone, demanding an answer.

Prince O'Neil, she'd say, was someone completely wrong for their daughter, and he honestly couldn't disagree on that point. He was rude and arrogant, careless and conceited, and, from the gossip going around his circle of friends, a tyrannical womanizer. And yet, that doesn't make any sense he wanted that type of man to be married to be his Flora. Doesn't explain why he want such a man to be the new king to his kingdom, and really doesn't explain why he given her the choice of either her marrying him or him disowning her.

None of this was making sense, he concluded. And drinking all that whiskey and scotch really wasn't helping either. Something…something happened…at dinner…that had to be it-something happened during dinner that made him desperately want the marriage. But what?

He remembered trying to be fair and giving the Prince time to explain himself when he _invited hi__m__self _to dinner. Him not liking what he was seeing as the Prince was showing his arrogant side. O'Neil becoming angrier and angrier when he wasn't getting what he wanted. O'Neil coming closer to him before he had the chance to call guards, placing a hand on his shoulder and forcing him to look into those smug eyes of his.

Those eyes. So cold and empty like the coldest ice. Glowing so bright and did something to him.

There was fear in him, the king remembered, as he looked into those eyes. The fear was so great, he wanted so badly to run or at least turn away. But something, something in those frightening and glowing eyes, held him in his seat and made him continue looking into those eyes despite his fear.

The prince said something as he had him in his grasp, something he repeated back to him and was now all in a daze to him.

After that…after that…he suddenly wanted Flora to marry him.

Unless…he thought, but soon lost his train of thought when he heard a knock on the door.

Finally, after staring at the door and listening to the person knock nonstop for half a minute, he decided to answer it and smiled when he saw it was Mirta.

Mirta was a young fifteen year old maid, who, like most of the young servants and maids, was a homeless orphan seeking work with good pay at a nice kingdom. She was such a cute little thing as well. Barely 5'2, she had pale skin that drastically contrasted with her dark crimson-red hair cut in a short bob, dark eyes, and adorable smile that went perfectly with her adorable face. With her charming yet shy personality, innocence, and height, she quickly came to everyone's liking and became the little sister they all wanted to protect.

"Hello, my dear," He knew he wasn't looking his best at the moment, not with his eyes puffy and blood-shot from the drinking and his breath reeking from the liquor. If she noticed the eyes or smelt his breath, she seemed to make no note of it, which he was graciously thankful for. "What can I do for you?"

"Master Cordatora wanted me to go over some issues concerning some of the new butlers today," she handed him over a clipboard stuffed with many, many notes written in Codatora's sloppy handwriting. Holding it in both hands, his dark hazel eyes skimmed over notes the man highlighted, underlined more than once, and written a mark here and there, which were practically covering all the pages. Pointing to a particular one that had more than several underlines, Mirta continued, "The one he seems to have a lot of issues with is Butler Cults, a recruit from Eraklyon. As you see here, the first sentence of the sixth paragraph, section A, shows-_Ayeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!_"

She cut herself off with a loud, agonizing squeal the very moment a sword was slashed into her back, through her chest, and missed the King's head only by an inch.

"_Lord have mercy!_" King Edward exclaimed as he quickly jumped back, watching in horror as the young girl struggled to breathe, taking in slow and swallow breaths, with a sword through her heart.

"So, every sorry about that, Your Highness," Prince smiled mockingly. One hand was holding onto Mirta's shoulder and steadying the limp, impaled girl as she bleed out while the other hand was dipping the sword deeper and deeper into her back. He looked angry, he looked proud, but most of all he looked hunger for blood. "But then again, I don't regret doing whatever it takes to get what I want. Isn't that right, Riven?"

A young man, who looked about eighteen or nineteen, entered into the king's study and stood in between the prince and the king. He was tall, well-built with a very broad and muscular figure, had spiky magenta-red hair, and piercing violet, unreadable eyes narrowed coldly into harsh slits. He was dressed in a sleeveless white shirt, dark red pants that were almost the same shade as his hair, and red sneakers. He balanced a glowing, elegant red sword that shimmered under the office's lights on his left shoulder, and carried an attitude and scowl on his face that stated he meant business.

He gave the king an once-over, eyeing his plump size and short height, thinking of millions of ways he could easily take him down in half the time, before he turned back to the prince with a half-shrug.

"Finish the girl off for me." He ordered his slave.

Riven stood where he was, rubbing the tip of his sword, glaring coldly at the prince.

His silence didn't falter the prince's mood and brought a pleasant smile to his face, which was mixed with mocking. "Oh, that's right," he remembered. "You don't kill women, do you?"

The only response to that was a cold, thin smile. Riven was a man who served his master's wishes completely even if he couldn't stand him. And, besides being a loyal but sour slave, he was also a valuable assassinate who only killed when necessary but always knew ways to get the job done and quick. Killing was part of his job's description and was the only way to put food into his mouth and get clothes on his back, so he always killed whoever needed to be killed. However, harming a woman was the only line he draws at and wouldn't cross, even if it was a direct order.

Killing the brat, otherwise known as the unwanted child, that belonged to his master who was pushing his buttons on the other hand…

"Keep talking '_Your Highness'_", he spat out the word in a dry, sarcastic matter. "For you, I'll be more than happy to make an expectation."

With the message received loud and clear, the prince decided it was enough time for jokes and onto a more important issue. Like getting his bride.

Withdrawing his sword from the girl's back, not even trying to be carefully and doing it quickly, he listened as she took in a quick, sharp that sounded quite painful to his ears. Then smiled as her wide eyes filled with pain and fear rolled to the back of her head before her body went completely limp and she finally died.

He stepped over the dead body, shoved Riven out of his way as he walked past him, and walked over to Edmund. Every step the cruel prince was taking forward, the traumatized king was taking back till O'Neil had Edmund cornered against the wall and his bloody word pressed against his throat.

"The great and wise King Edmund," he chuckled coldly at the anger yet fear in his eyes. "More like the _greatly_ timid and tiny mouse."

One wrong move and Edmund knew he would stab. The thought paralyzed him for a moment, but then he glanced back at Mirta, who was lying face-down on the ground, lifeless and deeply wounded with more and more blood gushing from her stab wound. Sadness filled inside his heart as he thought about how loyal the girl has been to him, banishing the fear, then the sadness changed into anger, infuriating and enraging at the brutal way the girl met her untimely end. He turned his eyes away from Mirta, and found himself looking into the amused eyes of Prince O'Neil. Those eyes that once shocked him and brought fear, eyes that he refused to let him go, and eyes that seemed to be compelling...

Wait a minute-_compelling_? _Compelling!_

"_Flora, I've made a decision. __Since you are not capable of choosing a husband, I decided to step in and pick him out for you. And I've decided the lucky prince you will marry shall be the noble Prince O'Neil. My decision is final, so don't waste your time trying to change my mind. I will give you till noon tomorrow to make your decision. If you are truly my daughter and wish to be queen, then you shall marry the nobleman. If not, then you shall be kicked out from the castle and banished to the streets. Reduced from a high princess to a lowly homeless beggar."_

Those were the words O'Neil made him repeat when he had him under his trance. And the exact same words he said to Flora when she was being difficult and lost his temper.

"You spelled me!" He quickly figured out when he finally put two and two together. But before His Majesty could blink, the prince lifted the small man up and slammed him hard against the wall, his hand tightly gripping around his throat. Pain, intense and sharp as a knife, burned from his head all the way down to his backside, and it was difficult for him to breathe, but he wasn't going to let things like that stop him. "_How dare you spell me?_"

"For kicks," O'Neil pulled the king back a bit before slamming him even deeper into the wall, with ten times more strength than before. "You definitely took much longer than I expected to figure out the whole thing on your own. Why the people refer to you as a wise king, I'll never understand."

"You retched little-" King Edmund bit hard on his bottom lip as he felt a hard crack at the back of his head when he was slammed for the third time, then drips of something sticky and warm running down his throat. It was blood, he was sure of it. But as agonizing as the pain was and as much as he wanted to scream out in pain, the king would rather be damned than give O'Neil the satisfaction he gotten to him.

"What's wrong, dear king Edmund?" He asked. "Have nothing left to say?"

"Few come to mind, but two really stand out," Even at a time of distress; Edmund still spoke in a calm, quiet voice. "One, I will be damned before I allow my daughter to be married to such a cold, heartless monster like you. The day you take her, O'Neil, will be the day of my death and my kingdom faces destruction."

That comment earned him another hard head-slam against the wall, which was far more powerful and painful than the other three combined.

"Second thing is," he continued, even as the brutal pain intensified and it was difficult to talk. "If for whatever reason, you are not executed or imprisoned, I can assure you your parents, Lord Malcolm and Lady Antoinette, will be thrilled to punish you for your crimes."

"I'm afraid that's going to be quite a challenge."

"And why would that be?" Edmund questioned, but knew he immediately he regretted asking when he saw vicious delight glimmer like a bright star inside those cold eyes.

"For one thing, Your Grace, I somehow doubt you'll be able to comminute with them," O'Neil took his eyes away from the king for a moment, then turned to Riven.

Riven nodded at the look on the prince's face, and then turned back to the door and snapped his fingers. Right on cue, two men who were tall and built like Cordatora, dressed entirely in snow-white from head to toe with masks that revealed nothing but their cold eyes, entered into the room, each carrying a heavy steel container they set on the floor.

"What are in those cases?" The king cursed himself for allowing his fear to be heard, but couldn't help it.

Prince O'Neil released his grip on the king and dropped him onto the ground. Although he was freed, he still didn't move from his position. Not when O'Neil still had that blasted sword with him and there were skilled soldiers, and possible assassinates, near him. He stole a glance at the cold-hearted man who killed Mirta and caused him to strike at his daughter, and fear spread through his body, running cold, as the prince's cruel smile grew bigger and harsher.

The soldiers, moving in unison and automatically like robots, opened the container and brought up something that had King Edmund screaming like he witnessed bloody murder at the top of his lungs, the smile on O'Neil's face widening into a Cheshire cat's grin, and Riven's frown darkening into a harsh scowl.

The heads of Lord Malcolm and Lady Antoinette, mouth agape and eyes wide in fear mixed with pain they suffered, crimson blood raining onto the creme-colored carpet, strands of dead flesh hanging loosely.

"_LORD HAVE MERCY__!_" He screamed.

"Unless of course, you have the ability to communicate with the dead."

Edmund couldn't talk because they were no words that could possibly describe what he was feeling. He couldn't think because his mind was blocked and mixed with so much, it was hard to untangle it all. He couldn't breathe, even though his lungs were burning from lack of oxygen.

All he could do was stare at the heads being dangled in front of him, and looked into the eyes of Lord Malcolm, one of his dearest friends. He had known the lord since the two stared in court together and been through so much. The fact that O'Neil was his son was the only main reason he considered the pairing between the prince and his Flora, because his bond with the father was brother-like and that strong.

But that same son murdered his own father and showing off what he had like it was great win.

"You vile, little monster!" Blinded by his fury and sadness over both deaths the prince caused, Edmund charged over to strike at him. Flashes of silver cut through the air, going fast as lightening, and Edmund was pinned against the wall, eight deaths stars targeted on his legs and arms. "You are never going to get with this."

"Really, because I think I just did. And this is only the opening act. The finale is going to be much better," He turned back to Riven and said "Ready my army and tell them to move on. Destroy the city; kill as many people if they get in your way. I honestly don't care, but bring me that wretched princess."

Even as the poor man was pinned down against the wall, death stars deeply thrust into his skin and causing blood to drip down from his wounds, held at the cold prince's mercy who could easily kill him or order him to be killed in a second, all he could do was think about his daughter.

How much it killed him to look her most of the time because she was the spitting image of her mother.

How much he regretted pushing her into this life-style and not giving her chances to make choices on her life like he should have.

How much he deeply, truly loved her and how much he wished he could say he was sorry for snapping at her. But most of all, tell her how sorry he was sorry he ever stuck at her.

_Flora_, he thought over and over again. _My dear, sweet Flora_.


	8. Chapter 8

While an evil prince was seated upon his new throne, watching as his master-plan was unfolding before him and smirking and laughing at the results, the beautiful princess was worlds away from her duty and all that, enjoying the beautiful and bright day with a wonderful friend, who was slowly becoming more and more than just a friend as the day continued.

Flora twirled the handle to her pink and green polka-dot umbrella, which helped block the bright sunrays from her face. She glanced across the sweet poet who returned her smile with so much warmth as he continued to row their canoe.

She felt like a character from her favorite romance books and movies, having the time of her life with the man responsible for making the whole day wonderful and beautiful.

Making her feel wonderful and beautiful.

All her life the only thing she ever wanted was freedom from being a princess. To be free from her duties, from lessons, meetings with lords and ladies, luncheons with merchants who needed her and her father's input on their merchandise, and just have one day to herself where she could do whatever she wanted. That was all she ever wanted and was the only thing her father, who'd give her the universe itself if it could put a smile to her, wouldn't allow, despite all the begging she's done.

She remembered, when she was little, she and Musa would stay up late at nights whenever they could, talking and planning about making that wish come true. Most of the plans consist of Musa being the distraction, screaming at the top of her lungs or using her musical ability, while Flora would make a quick getaway. The second Flora was far away enough for anyone to find her; Musa would cease the distraction and run like hell, despite the stares that would follow her. Once she'd caught up with Flora, the girls would ran far from the castle and finally have some fun.

As brilliant as the plans were, and the girls were always on the verge of trying them out, Flora always would chicken out at the last second because of two reasons: 1). The plan would only work if she were truly alone, which is practically never and 2). Helping the princess escape could get Musa into a lot of trouble. Sure, the girl has been in trouble more times than Flora could count, but those problems were always resolved because, beside the sisterly-bond in the girls' friendship, the king saw her as an adopted, lovable daughter he cared deeply about. But for something as big as helping a princess escape from her own castle, Musa possibly wouldn't just get punished. She could lose her job, get transferred to another castle, in another planet, and Flora would never see her again.

She thought that freedom dream finally died after some many years of wishing and it never happening. And yet, here she was, years later, finally out of the castle walls and living out that dream.

But instead of sharing the freedom with Musa, she was with Helia.

When they spent the whole night traveling from one planet to the next, seeing all the wonderful sights and having endless fun, they came to Magix and spent the peaceful morning, snuggling and sometimes kissing on their picnic blanket while watching the gorgeous sunset.

She half-expected that the fun was over and it was time to go back home. She was halfway toward Helia's levi-bike before he grabbed her hand to pull her back to him, smiled at her confused expression, and said the fun wasn't over just yet.

Hand-in-hand, smiling and sometime chuckling whenever they caught each other's eyes, they continued exploring-only this time staying in Magix and seeing everything.

They grabbed tasty cinnamon buns and hot chocolate toppled with whipped cream and cinnamon at a quite, well-known bakery famous for its' treats. Helia bought art supplies from a nearby art store for a project. They went to a charming bear workshop store for kids and tweens alike, where Helia created her the cutest stuffed animal: an adorable, soft pink kitten with the green eyes that were almost her exact same shade, the softest fur she ever felt that was smooth and rich like the softest velvet, and a cute flower headband. After the workshop, they explored more and more places, tried different foods in nearly all the restaurants and cafes the city had to offer, and giving more fun in one day than they had all their lives.

Later in the afternoon, just as leaving a diner where they had veggie burgers and spilt a basket of fries, with Flora snuggling to her stuffed kitty, which she decided to name Coco, there one place Helia really wanted to show her. They walked miles and miles till they reached of Magix and were in an abandoned neighborhood. All the small houses lined up next to each other on both sides and run down, all painted in dark and depressing colors and in desperate need of repair and the silence were so quiet it was painfully eerie and running chills up Flora's spine.

Helia, on the other hand, was completely unfazed. But then again, she could only guess he's been here more than once and gotten used to it, the rundown setting and heavy silence. He calmly took her hand and led her down the dead-end, making a right turn in a dark alley.

What greeted them inside the alley were crates. Over dozens of them, some big, some small. Some empty while others were filled with junk.

"What is this place?" Helia refused to give an answer, but offered a smile and an arm she gladly accepted and walked inside the alley.

At the end of the alley were several small crates made into some-sort of bed with a small baby blanket and newspaper-stuffed garbage bags used as pillows.

"This is my home," Flora tore her eyes away from the crate-like bed and turned to Helia. Only, he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at the bed with dazedness in his eyes, like he was living through memories. "_Was_ my home."

"This is where you used to live?" Flora asked, not knowing what else to say. She knew Helia didn't have a lot of money, so she didn't expect him to live in a huge mansion or a penthouse apartment in a five-star hotel. But she always thought the place he used to live before he came to work for her father would be a small apartment or even a room at the affordable motel. She never would have thought it would be a poorly handmade bed, in such a neighborhood.

Easily reading her face like an open book and knowing exactly what was going through her head, Helia took no offense and smiled gently at her. Her reaction was the same as Musa and Timmy when he showed them his old home, with both of them shocked and unsure what to say for a few moments. "It's quite alright, Your Highness. When I showed Musa and Timmy, they were pretty much shocked and had the same reactions."

"You said you came to Magix right after the widower your parents…um, uh….gave you to died, right?" When he nodded, she continued further with her question. "You were also still a little boy, right?" Another nod and she went further. "Then, why didn't you go to an orphanage?"

Helia let out a small, sad chuckle at her question, not at all surprised at it, and didn't look at her directly as he answered it. "That's the same question Saladin asked me when he first met a small, very scrawny little boy coming to this neighborhood, late at night and using the blanket as a umbrella to protect me from the rain. And the same one Timmy asked me when I showed them my home while Musa was too shocked to speak," Deeply taking in a breath and letting it out slowly, he continued. "As soon as I was released from my duties, an orphanage was the first thing that came to mind, and then left a second later. If I went there, sure, I'd get food, a roof over my head, and clothes, but that was the last place I ever wanted to go."

"How come?"

"Because seeing those kids repeatedly entering and sometimes-if they're lucky- leaving would be something I'd rather not see," he answered. "Especially seeing them getting adopted by new parents while the rest of us would either wait for that to happen or when we're old enough to live. Whichever comes first."

Although it was painful to consider, Flora could see where Helia was going with that point. She couldn't being in that position because it was so sad and tears threatened to fall. To be so young and feel so unwanted….that was something no child should ever feel.

Holding Coco securely in one arm, Flora kneeled down to the ground and studied the baby blanket. Despite the moth-eaten moles and spider-weds, it honestly was a beautiful blanket. Soft-looking like cotton, the edges detailed with shimmering gold thread, its' color the most beautiful shade of the baby blue, and had the most adorable baby teddy bear sew onto the bottom of it. The teddy bear was a shade darker than the blanket, wore a black beret on its' head, held a paint-set in one hand and a brush in the other, clearly an artist in the making.

"So cute." She muttered so quietly, she was sure Helia couldn't hear her. Surprisingly, though, he could and squatted down beside her.

For a while, both of them were silent, the princess thinking about what his life was like, the servant thinking about memories. Memories before he came to Linepa he hasn't thought about in the longest time, some that were good while most were ones he'd be all too happy to forget. Most of those horrible memories mostly had to do with his parents.

"This was my baby blanket my mother, Juliana, made herself while she was pregnant. She knew she was having a boy, thus the color blue," he said, and Flora paid attention to every word as he went on. "She always told me, when she'd tuck me into bed and stroke my hair, she always knew her little boy was going to be an amazing from the moment she felt me kick." He lightly brushed his finger against the bear artist, remembering when he was little and needed the blanket to get him through tough situations, all he had to do was look at the bear and felt a bit better. "Father told me she was just a crazy woman, but she always seemed to assure me it was true."

Flora studied Helia's features, wondering what his parents might have looked like. She could picture his father as a very handsome man with midnight hair and chisel features. As for the mother, a beautiful woman with dark hair, possibly long, and alluring eyes just like her son's.

"I still remember the day I was traded to Miss Grayson, the woman who needed a servant to care for her," he told her. "It was raining so hard that day. The water was up past our knees. And we've been walking for long hours. I remember being so tired and cold, but knew better than to complain. It was after awhile, I started to notice we weren't going back to the Circus train where the others were. Finally, after walking for such a long time, we came to this enormous mansion,"

He paused with his story for a moment, and then turned to her, wondering if he should continue. After watching her nod, he carried on.

"This old and plump woman, dressed entirely in black, with the dirtiest blond hair I've ever seen came out and walked toward us. I remember being so scared of her, because, besides her appearance, I could tell there was something cold and dark about her. I could tell she's been watching us for a while, because she kept those cold, black eyes on hers on me the entire time while she made the deal with my parents. She told them she'd give them a loaf of bread for exchange I stayed with her to be her servant. I almost expected, praying actually, my parents wouldn't consider it. But the next thing I knew, I was being shoved into this tiny, cell-room in a dark basement with only my blanket. I looked out the window and saw my parents running in the rain while eating their bread. They had big smiles on their faces and I could hear them laughing, despite the loud roar of the heavy rain, looking so happy like they've been rid of a huge burden. They didn't even once turn back. Which is probably a thing since I was sobbing so much, wondering what it is I could have done that would make them hate them so much."

Flora didn't know which was more painful: the story itself or the flat, dead tone Helia was using as he told his story. Both were so sad and horrible, it was tie. But she did know what happened to him had the worst, saddest story she ever heard.

What kind of parents actually gives up their own child for…for…something so insignificant and petty like a loaf of bread? She heard plenty of reasons why a child would be given up: parents too young, too poor to feed the kid, abusive and/or neglectful, dealing with drug or alcoholic problems, etc. But never has she heard something as low like giving them away for bread.

It was so wrong, there's no word in the entire dictionary that could properly describe it.

Helia was no longer looking at her. Instead, he was looking at the blanket, his finger brushing gently against the baby blanket. His face almost seemed like a mask, because of its' unreadable, cool expression. But, as she leaned, she saw in those dead, flat eyes there were some tears he was trying to hold in.

_Poor baby_, she thought sadly. She wished she had something-anything-warm and comforting she could say to make him feel better, though she really doubt there was really anything that could, but couldn't think of anything. So she settled with the best next thing she could think of.

She wrapped her arms slowly around him and brought him close to her. Although he didn't move or resisted, Flora still felt a stiff tension in his body and only hoped he wasn't one of those boy stereotypes who acted all tough but showed no emotion. She settled his head onto her lap, settled her kitten beside her, and dropped small and gentle kisses on his neck while her soft, gentle fingers tenderly rubbed his head.

Helia was stiff for a moment or two, unsure how to respond with her gesture, but the comfort seeped through and he allowed himself to not only feel it but to lose himself in it.

He has received comfort before in his life. For example, in his early years with his parents, his mother would hold onto him tight, as if she was afraid he'd disappear from thin air, though that seemed to be more for her benefit than his, because it seemed she only needed someone to hold like a teddy bear when things went sour. He received real, genuine hugs and praise from Saladin, who never failed to make him feel good, actually good about himself. From Musa, it was being goofy during a foul time and being her goofy-self, which never failed to make him smile despite the fact he honestly wished he couldn't. From Timmy, were silly nut unknown facts the brainic knew would make him either cringe from disgust or have him laughing.

But there was something completely different about this comfort: possibly because of the person who was giving him the comfort. The princess soothing him with her gentle hands and her warm, soft lips kissing him on the neck over and over was one of the best comforts he ever received.

Neither of them knew exactly how long time passed. Could it have been a few seconds, minutes, maybe even an full hour or so. But time seemed so meaningless and unimportant as they were in their position, him feeling her sweet breath tickling his neck, she feeling the way his body was respond to her touch and her body responding to his warmth.

Lord himself knew it was so peaceful and sweet; Helia didn't want it to end. However, noticing the sun slowly coming to sunset, he knew time was unfortunately moving too fast and there was still so much he wanted to do with Flora. He slowly pulled always her, but held her in his arms and kept her close, and smiled at her in pure gratitude.

He dropped a kiss on her forehead, before properly dropping a kiss on her lips, meaning for the kiss to be brief, but letting his lips linger there for awhile after tasting her sweetness.

"Thank you, Your Highness," she was blushing bright red as he pulled away from her but was smiling at her blushing, sheepish face. "It was much..needed and comforting."

"The pleasure is all mine." Her blush became redder soon after she said; realizing how a sentence meant to be innocent can appear not as so in another sense.

Trying to redeem herself, she quickly added, "What I mean is I'm only returning the favor. After all, you comforted me when I needed it."

Helia smiled as he gently brushed back loose strands of her hair, tucking it behind her ear and looking into her eyes. The simplest of gestures yet somehow made such a huge impact on her. Her body was tingling with a buzz with his hand touching her and her heart was beating loudly from the closeness, leaving very little room between them, breathing in his minty breath as it caressed her face.

She closed her eyes in anticipation and parted her lips. He then swiftly pecked her on the forehead, deliberately teasing her, and quickly running before she had the chance to open her eyes.

"I'll get you for that!" She giggled, getting up from the ground, grabbing Coco, and running after him, leaving the baby blanket and the darkness of Helia's past far behind them.

After catching him around the neighborhood, she ended the chase by jumping onto his back and sending them both to the ground, both of them laughing as they looked into each other eyes.

Flora wasn't sure why, but time seemed to be going faster than she anticipated. Soon it'd be coming to an end and she wasn't sure what she was going to do afterward when it's all over. But Helia, easily, reading her expressions, assured her that there was still one last thing he wanted to do before the day was over.

By the excited gleam in his eyes, she was anxious to know, but just like she was anxious to know where he was taking her before. And just like the last time, Helia refused to give away an answer and did something different: he tied a blind-fold around her eyes, scooped her up in his arms, and told her it was going to be a big surprise.

Being in his arms and listening to the calming beat of his heart lulled her into a deep sleep, which soon became broken as she was seated onto something solid and heard the sound of running water.

"Are we on a boat?" He gave no answer, and, though she was blinded by the blind-fold, she could tell he was smiling a bit. "We are, aren't we?"

"I seem to have forgotten you're much more observant than I give you credit for."

By the time she finally was allowed to take off the blind-fold, she was speechless as she looked around her surroundings before she turned around to a smiling Helia.

They were on a small island, surrounded by crystal clear, brilliantly blue water she just wanted to taste or take a swim in. The tall, paradise-like palm trees were tall just as those from her planet and the branches way easily from the breeze, the high rocks almost as tall as Helia were standing between sand and sea and looked more than comfortable enough to sit down with their smooth texture, and the sweet air perfumed with salty sea.

It was breathtaking, May be a little simple and small, but breathtaking nevertheless, which was what she loved the most about it. "It's beautiful."

Helia wrapped one arm around her, bringing her close as he looked around the familiar island before meeting her eyes again. "While I was working odd jobs in Magix, there was this nice fisherman's wife who let me use of the boats in exchange for catching some fish for her. Whenever I used one of the boats, I sailed around for nearly hours before coming here. Quiet, peaceful, isolated, it become my home away from home."

It was almost the exact same way Flora thought about her mother's rose gardens. "What is it you'd do here?" she asked.

Shrugging, he answered. "Paint, sketch, relax. It was paradise to me. Sometimes I'd feel like I was on Gilligan's island, only in reserve."

"Why reserve?"

"Well, unlike Gilligan and his friends, I was never desperate to leave this place. In fact, had it my way, I'd stay here forever. But I will admit, I sometimes get knocked around the head."

"You did?"

"Yep," he nodded. "Unlike Gilligan, I wouldn't get knocked around by the Skipper and his hat. Instead, I'd get on the head with a coconut."

"A coc…" Flora tried finishing that sentence, but ended up laughing as the image of Helia walking around the island, a coconut suddenly falling onto his head, and him looking daze for a moment, with a silly but dizzying smile on his face, before collapsing onto the ground popped into her head.

"Ha, ha," Helia rolled his eyes half-heartedly, a hint of a smile on his face. "Very funny."

"Well, it's true."

"You do realize you're making me wanna throw you into the water."

Her laughter immediately ceased by that. "I think not."

"Really? And why may I ask would be that?" Helia arched his eyebrow, watching the graceful being walk slowly toward him, her hands folded behind her back, smiling innocently.

"Simple," she shrugged, the smile still in tact. Pointing to herself, she said "I am the Princess of Linphea." Then directing that pointing finger towards him, she continued "You are a faithful, doting servant. The only thing you should be throwing me into is your devotion to me."

"Well, forgive my rude ignorance, my lady," he bowed low before her, so formal and poised it amazed her no one else could see her as a gentleman. He gotten down on one knee and kissed her hand. "Better?"

"Much better." She nodded, approving.

To congratulate him on a job well-done, Flora bent over to kiss him on the head. Then quickly Helia stood up while she was still bent over and draped her over his shoulders, laughing at her protest cries and her legs that were kicking wildly.

"Helia, put me down this-" Her protest was cut off as Helia ran them into the ocean and jumped into the water.

Shock ran through her like a jolt as her skin made contact with the freezing water, thinking she was going to freeze to death. Slowly, though, the water became slightly less colder and more bearable till she was completely warm in it. She opened her eyes to see she was deep under, her mind at peace.

When he turned around, Helia was standing right behind her, nearly scaring her half to death. Without hesitance, he placed his hand behind her neck and brought their lips together in a sweet, delicious kiss she melted into and never wanted to end. But before she could really enjoy it, Helia pulled away from her too soon, winked at her, and swam up to the surface. Flora followed his lead, quickly taking in gulps of air.

"You…you...you…" She tried thinking of the best insult to say to him, but when she couldn't think of anything she did the next best thing: splashing big waves at him, making sure to get some water into his open mouth and nose till he was no longer laughing and choking on the water, waving his hands frantically in surrender.

"Okay, okay, okay! I give, I give, I give!" He was now much wetter than before, but he was still smiling. "I am so, ever sorry, my lady. Was that wrong of me?"

To answer that question, she gave him another splash that was big enough to nearly drown him.

Before she could splash him a third time, Helia grabbed her arms and pulled her with him underwater.

An hour of dunking each other into the water, splashing, and diving under to explore the undersea, they were weary and come back to shore. Helia slipped off his soaking shoes and Flora followed his suit, surprised by the soft and warm sand squishing between her toes.

They explored the rest of the island, playing games such as hide and seek, tag, and race games, then climbed the tallest trees and saw the entire view and ocean stretching out for thousands of miles. Then, when they were through exploring, they ate an early dinner with the things Helia bought from the stores: two ginger-crisp salads that treated so good, vegetarian burgers that were so amazing they put shames to the others she ever tasted before in her life, including the ones made by her famous cook, and twelve-dozen chocolate cupcakes. After that, they ended their day with sitting on one of the high rocks, Flora seated upon his lap and their arms wrapped around one another, and watched the sun finally set, leaving behind different shades of orange and pink in its' wake.

"Beautiful." Flora breathed, snuggling closer to Helia.

"Very," he agreed. Only he wasn't looking at the breathtaking sunset, but at the breathtaking creature in his arms. "Very, truly."

Flora looked up at him, their eyes, their eyes connecting, smiled ay him, and peeked his cheek.

Today really was one of the most perfect days of her life. It was perfect, too perfect, which was why she was too sad to see it ending.

"I don't want to go back." She murmured.

She what? Helia thought for a moment his ears were playing tricks on him. But when he looked down at the princess's face, he saw her face was unreadable.

"I don't want to go back." She repeated, sounding surer.

"But you must!"

"Why?"

"Because you're the princess."

Flora opened her mouth to protest, but soon closed it when she realized she had nothing to debate against that. She was a princess, whether she liked it or not, and the duty to her people came first before her.

Before this would have been more than enough to bring her back into reality and go back to that. The old her definitely would have done that, without hesitance or question. But things were different now and she was tired, dead tired and angry.

All of her life she's been putting the needs of her people and her father's wishes before herself. It was all she ever known and she was sick of it. Besides there was nothing waiting for at home except guarded walls holding her as a prisoner forever, a marriage proposal from a revolting prince, and facing banishment from her own home if she refused the proposal.

"Seventeen years I've been like a prisoner in my own home," Flora told Helia. "And I'm sick of it. Now that I finally known what it's like to have actual freedom, I can't go back to the way things were."

"Then what are going to do if you don't go back?" Helia asked.

That caught her off guard for a moment, till the answer hit her. "Well…I guess we could live here."

"We?" He couldn't resist smiling at that.

Flora nodded, as if that was already obvious and there was no other way to have it.  
"Of course you, me, Musa, and Timmy."

"The fours of us?"

"Of course," she nodded. "We can live here by the sea and go to Magix whenever we want to."

"And build ourselves a beach us here." Helia said. "But what about your father?"

"My father…he can always remarry. Find himself a lady and have another heir."

Helia asked Flora if she really was sure about that and she answered yes, even though he wasn't that convinced anymore than he was. It's been seventeen years since her mother died and the king was still in mourning as if it was yesterday, obviously still in love with her. There was more than just doubt he'd even look at another lady, much less marry one. In fact, it was entirely unbelievable.

"I still want to stay," Flora said. She cupped Helia's face in her hands, caressing his cheeks. "And I want you to stay with me."

"Princess, I-" She silenced him by placing her fingers on his lips. With her being so close, he thought she was going to kiss him again, so he smiled before puckering his lips and waiting for the kiss. Only it never came.

Confused, he opened his eyes and watched Flora take her hand away from her cheek, along with her fingers on his lips, and pull away from him. The more she was pulling away, the colder than air was suddenly getting till it felt like it a blizzard wasn't too far their way.

"Princess." He reached for her, but only got himself thrown off the rock, crashing hard onto his back.

By the time he looked up again, he nearly jumped back in fear. Flora was standing high on the high rock, arms stretched out, her head slightly tilted as if she was listening to something, and her eyes slowly opened, the greens bigger and less normal-like than before and glowed brightly.

"Flora!" He got off his feet and ran to her, only to get knocked off his feet and slam his back into the tree.

Wind gathered around her, as if she was in the heart of a tornado, quickly picking up speed as the day was quickly becoming darker like nighttime was approaching. He had to shield his face from the sand, rocks, and water fling at him, but still kept his eyes on her.

Her eyes were so green, so big; they no longer resemble anything of normalcy. Instead that looked like they were not of this planet, this universe, not even this dimension. Her caramel hair whipped along her hair, but still she stood like a statue as the wind kept growing stronger and stronger till he was half-sure the island itself was going to be blown away.

"_Flora!_" He yelled, but didn't get a respond. Not that he expected it anyway.

She slowly blinked her unnaturally green eyes once and the storm quickly went away as it came, then fall off the rock with a heap.

"FLORA!" He gathered her in his arms, brushing her hair away from her face and seeing her unfocused eyes looking up at the sky.

"My father. Musa. Mirta," Tears rushed to her eyes as she murmured that name. "My people."

"Hush, love, hush," He shushed, helping her sit up. "What wrong? What happened?"

"Nature…" she murmured, trembling cold and wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm. "Nature spoken to me. The voice of Nature spoken to me."

"And what did it say?"

She finally looked at him, but when she did the tears she was holding it streamed down her face like heavy rain. "My kingdom, my home, and my people are under attack. And being destroyed as we speak."


	9. Chapter 9

**A Whole New World Chapter 9**

There are only two times in the entire history of Linphea the planet has ever been engaged in battle.

The first was when the planet was first created by two sisters. They've fought to death on who would rule the planet, which was won by the elder sister who was crowned queen.

The second time was during the reign of the three ancestries witches. Sparks needed allies to fight with them, and because of the close ties between the rulers, Linphea accepted.

Now, they did have guards and soldiers trained in combat, who were always on alert. Close to twenty million. But Linphea was a peaceful planet, where war and violence barely existed. However, whenever conflict emerged, it was quickly resolved nearly the second it starts. Often times when it was too much to be resolved by themselves, the wise King Edmund was trusted to find some way that would benefit everyone.

Which was why, at the crack of dawn, they never expected a vengeful prince to led armies to the realm and destroy the planet.

* * *

Looking back, Musa kicks herself for not realizing something was wrong.

But then again, there was no way any of them could have known. The day started out so ordinary.

She woke from deep sleep at six in the morning, by the sound of a loud alarm alerting all the servants to meet in the main room.

Cursing the alarm, swearing at Cordatora, and wishing it wasn't a weekday, she got up and got dressed in her uniform. Once she was sure she looked okay, she met Timmy in the hallway. The two friends wrapped their arms around each other's shoulders and walked down to the main room, where everyone was gathering together and Cordatora stood in the center, clipboard in hand.

Leaning against Timmy's shoulder and ignoring his knowing smirk, Musa tried catching a few last minutes of sleep while Cordatora read off the chores for the day.

"Lastly, due to…tension…between his Majesty and her Highness, no one is allowed to see them unless I say otherwise."

Timmy nudged Musa gently, and she looked up at him, the two of them sharing a private and knowing look. Soon after the whole mess with O'Neil the Scum, the musical fairy found her friend and told him what happened. They both knew well enough what happened between Flora and her father was anything but tension.

"Excuse me, sir," said Jared, a dark-haired naïve servant who has been working in Linphea for nearly a year.

The poor boy nearly trembled in fear at Cordatora's cold eyes. There was nothing more frightening. One of the worse ways to get Cordatora anger was interrupting him. "What is it?"

"Well, sir…it has come to my attention…it seems-no one has seen Mirta."

Hearing this caused quite a stir with the servants. But no one was more surprised than Cordatora. No servant, no even the most dedicated rule-breakers like Musa, has never disappeared. It was even more surprising that sweet little Mirta was the culprit.

Quickly going through his clipboard and reading the log-ins, he saw there was one small detail he overlooked: Mirta hasn't checked in or out since last night. Looking up at the sea of confused, curious faces, his eyes settled on a petite, innocent-looking, aqua-haired girl he recognized as the girl's roommate.

"You," he pointed at her, notching the chatter going around. He beckoned her to step forward, which she obliged with trembling legs. "Renee, where is your roommate?"

"I don't know, sir," she answered truthfully. At twelve years old, she was by far the youngest maid. She and Mirta became quick friends because of their young ages. "Before I went to bed, she went to see his Majesty about the servants' notes you've given her."

He remembered that; it was the last assignment he given her. So why has been no record of her whereabouts since then?

Sighing to himself, he decided he'll figure it out the details later. The girl, like some maids, probably went off with some lover or was sleeping in somewhere. The palace was huge; she has to be somewhere. "Moving on. Tonight his Majesty will be throwing the grandest, biggest balls in honor for the princess for a very special occasion-".

"Which is our wedding day."

For a moment or two, hearing that voice, Musa was sure she was hearing voices. Or that the lack of sleep was getting her to her. However, noticing the stilled tension building up inside the room like static electricity, hearing the gasps coming from everyone, and seeing their shocked expressions as he walked through let her know it wasn't a dream.

The damn scum entered through the grand doors upstairs with such confidence, as if he owes the house, smirking down at their shocked and anger faces. His pale-nearly white hair gleamed under the sunlight, eyes colder and darker than before, and his smile sinister.

"My fellow subjects," he announced. "Bow down and tremble before me. I present myself to you as the new king of Linphea."

"Like hell!" Musa yelled, starting off a chain of protests and yells at him.

The prince waved off each insult and curse threw at him, the smile on his face becoming more twisted with each one. Around him were soldiers dressed in white from head to toe, armed with weapons, standing tall and firm. Among one, closest to O'Neil's left, was one who immediately stood out from the others.

Unlike the others, he wore no uniform and was dressed casually. He was the only one frowning, actually showing some kind of emotion that wasn't blank. He had spiky hair in a color that was a cross between burgundy and crimson red, a well-fit muscular body she had to admit was the most impressive she has ever seen, and piercing, cold eyes.

Very cold eyes almost as cold and dark as Cordatora's, in a very startling color of violet. Eyes the color of deep yet bright violet, which immediately popped out. Eyes that stared at her intensely the second she yelled out her outburst and he stepped into the room. Intensely and deeply, as if she was something he couldn't quite get, causing a very hot flush to travel throughout her body.

A flush she couldn't understand, and one she didn't want to.

Timmy noticed him watching her and must have gotten a sense of her discomfort, because he then gently pushed her aside as he got in front of her, glaring at the guy with stern warning in his eyes, acting like a big brother protective of his sister.

Still, it didn't stop the guy from staring.

_Who the hell is this guy_, she wondered.

"You damn leech!" Cordatora yelled with enraged anger pulsing through his thick veins that bulged throughout his body. "Where is King Edmund? What have you done with him?"

"The king, I'm afraid, has reached the end of his royal duties. With every fall of an old king, a new one raises. And that would be…me. But don't worry simpletons. I have a gift for you."

At the snap of his fingers, the strange redhead gestured for the two soldiers in the back to come forward. Obliging, they looked down at the servants, carrying something large and wrapped in white gauze. Without a second thought, they tossed it carelessly over the banister, watching it crash onto the marble-porcelain floor.

The second it hit the ground, the gauze covering it broken into millions of pieces and melted away like ice, revealing Mirta's dead body.

As much as it made Musa sick, as much as she wanted to look away, Mirta's dead eyes refused to let her look away. Her eyes were so haunting, eerie almost. Musa was silent, biting her bottom lip hard to keep everything together while the others lost it, screaming and crying and cursing at O'Neil.

"You wretched creature!" bellowed Cordatora, his scream louder than a hundred loud voices combined. "How could you do this to a child?"

The prince said nothing and only smiled, pleased.

Crouching before Mirta, Cordatora checked her wounds, and Musa and Timmy helped him. Being up close to her now, Musa could see behind the flat dullness of her eyes, there was shock and fear behind them blended with unspeakable pain.

Nothing could prepare them to see the huge stab wound punctured through her chest. Not even Cordatora could mask his shock.

"And that's not all, my friends," O' Neil withdrawal an elegant-fine sword smeared with crusted blood-_Mirta's blood_ and tossed it over the banister. The murder weapon landed a foot away from the girl's head. "She also comes with an accessory."

Looking down at poor Mirta, Cordatora's fists were balled into two hard, tight fists of fury. Musa and Timmy quickly stepped back, sensing the anger building inside him like a volcano ready to erupt. He wasn't angry, not even furious, but _enraged_ and hunger for blood. And by the dark, maddening look he gave O'Neil, there was no question about it on whose blood he wanted. "_I'll see you are hanged for this!_"

"You and what army?" A gleam of malice shone in his eyes, making him look more and more like a madman. At the snap of fingers, hundreds and hundreds of soldiers burst into the room, surrounding them. "Linphea is mine!"

_Not if we can help it_, Musa thought, looking around. There were hundreds of them against more than two thousand of his men, so it was going to be a tough fight. She looked at Cordatora, who nodded, then at Timmy, who nodded as well and mouthed "Code 4FK." Nodding at the two, she returned her attention to the two soldiers who were the closest to her, flashing them an innocent and flirty smile that intrigued them and kept their attention on her as her fingers brushed against the neckline of her top.

The suspicion in their eyes quickly changed to curiosity, which quickly morphed into interest and lust as she slowly pulled down the think strap holding everything in. And, though she couldn't see him, she knew he was watching as well.

Then, just as she was about to reveal all, she jumped high and her feet quickly flung, knocking their weapons out of their hands and knocking them out.

"Boogie blaster!" Raising her hand over head, a massive disco ball fifty times the size of a normal ball emerged from her palm, flying up to the ceiling. Whirling like a tornado, it shot hundreds and hundreds of blindingly bright, powerful blasts, hitting everything and everyone it shot as a threat, taking down close to half of O'Neil's men and blasting Mr. Cocky in the face.

"For Linphea!" Cordatora declared, picking up the bloody sword and holding it up high.

The magical beings quickly conjured up their most powerful spells, the not magical took out their weapons, and all began to fight.

Cordatora ordered Musa and Timmy to find Flora and the king, before being pulled into a fight. Musa wasted no time transforming into her beautiful, powerful Enchantix form, pulling Timmy by the hand and flying him up the to the twelfth floor, where they knew the royals were.

The first place they looked was the king's study, bursting into the room without a second thought.

"Sir, the castle is under attack-"

Musa cut herself off with a sharp breath and a whimper, staring ahead in dazed eyes. Timmy looked at her in confusion, wondering why she stopped, till he looked up ahead as well and was frozen in shock.

The king was pinned to the wall, with two death stars digging deep into his wrists and ankles, drawing streams of blood. He was perfectly still, and his eyes were closed, as if he were resting. With a huge, perfect slit across his neck, crusted with blood, bleeding out the last drop.

"Oh…my…god…" Timmy murmured.

"My lord," Musa croaked, barely able to speak, much less breathe. Hot tears rushed to her eyes as she stared at the man who ruled the kingdom incredibly for the past 27 years, the man who was one of the most generous and great leaders Linphea ever had. The man who has practically been a father-figure to her. Who was now…dead. "King Edmund."

The urge to cry was so great, she nearly fell down to her knees, ready to sob and yell until her heart gave out. But she couldn't. Not now.

Flora. Her best friend. She needed to protect her. Mirta was already killed by the damn bastard, it was too late to do anything for the king, but Musa would be damned if she let that monster take her best friend away from her, too.

Musa took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, getting herself together. She'd be damned if anything shall happen to Flo. She touched Timmy's arm, turning him away from the king, to the door. "Timmy, we have to go. Flora's our last chance."

An explosion burst through the door, the force hitting them harder than a wall of bricks and knocking them to the ground. Wincing, Musa slowly rose to her feet, helping Timmy up while ignoring the pain burning in her body. More than half a dozen of soldiers barged in, pointing their guns at them.

"You're coming with us." Growled the one in the center, who was by far the tallest and broadest.

_Damnit!_ She growled. They didn't have time for this crap.

As if he could read her mind, Timmy wasted no time pulling out his laser gun, shooting up at the building before shooting at them. The men quickly charged toward him, and he quickly pushed her aside, shoving her towards the door.

Musa looked back and saw Timmy had his hands full, shooting and kicking and ducking. "Timmy!"

"Go!" he yelled, firing at one man and ducking a punch another swung at him. He tried smiling at her, as if to say everything was going to be okay, even though they both knew it was a lie. "Find Flora! I'll catch up with you guys as soon as I can."

She nodded, flashed him a weak smile, and flew to Flora's room, blasting down the doors and landing on her feet. Her eyes swept across the area and were shocked to find her friend wasn't there.

_What the hell?_ She looked nearly all around the room, but there was no Flora. She looked at the princess's bed, and, judging by the lack of ceases in her bed, Flora hasn't been here all night.

"Where is she?" she asked herself. It dawned to her she hasn't seen Helia either. Did he have something to do with this? Was he with her?

"Exactly, what we were thinking. Maybe you can help us."

Before Musa turn around, a whip tangled itself around her wrists, shocking her like electric bolts, and she pulled toward two soldiers who smirked at her struggle.

When one leaned down to touch her, she immediately seized the chance to spit in his eye, aiming a big one right on target. Enraged, he slapped her across the face, knocking her flat on her back. The man holding the whip that held her captured pulled her up to her knees, tightening his grip.

"How about that, Thomas?" said the one she spit at. "Pretty and feisty."

Thomas smirked down at her before looking back up at him. With a wink, he suggested "Why don't we have some fun with her?"

Musa bit her bottom lip, bracing herself. The one who was spitted on kneeled in front of her and reached for her breast-

Then fell down dead.

With a bullet hole in his back.

"What the-" Thomas whimpered softly, his eyes speaking of unbearable pain as a death star was lunged into his throat. Groaning softly, he slowly laid back, his body twitching until it finally stopped.

The music fairy freed herself from her bounds, tenderly rubbing her wrists. She breathed hard in a single breath, but quickly reminded herself to pull it together. She turned to the door.

There he stood. The violet-eyed, strange servant. Holding a smoking sliver gun in one hand and five death stars in the other.

Riven looked at her for a moment, then down at the two soldiers now dead, and back at her again. "Idiots," was all he said with scowl before he left.

For a moment, Musa stared at the spot where he was stood, confused. He actually killed his own men? He actually protected her? But the confusion quickly passed as she heard the yelling and the fighting and O'Neil's cruel laughter. There were other things she needed to concern herself with.

Like finding Flora and kicking O'Neil's ass.

* * *

O'Neil's armies were taking Linphea by storm. Destroying the kingdom, burning down houses and buildings, tearing down anything that stood in their way, forcing people to aboard their ships like slaves with their whips and killing those who disobeyed.

A young-blonde-haired mother pulled away from the crowd boarding the ship, holding her child close to her as she took off running. She heard the gun fires, and felt the bullets getting closer and closer to her. But she couldn't stop now.

She was so close.

Everything seemed to slowed for a moment as a bullet was shot into her head. She barely had time to gasp before she hit the ground.

Her little girl hit the ground as well, but was unharmed. She crawled over to her mother's collapsed body and shook her head, praying her mother would open her eyes. "Mama. Mama."

She cried out in pain as the killer stepped hard onto her hand, forcing her to look up at his cold cruel eyes and smile, trembling in fear as he pressed the gun against her forehead.

"Say goodnight, you snot-nosed brat-"

"Ivy vine wrap!" Tangles and tangles of luxurious ivy wrapped around his body, bringing him down to his knees and tightening their grip up to the point he couldn't breathe.

Flora hopped off Helia's levaibike, grabbed the child, and got them out just in time as Helia drove his bike right into him, knocking him out cold.

The child was sobbing as she tightened her grip around Flora's neck and buried her face into the nape. She was too scared to notice who she was hugging. "Please help us."

Flora murmured sweet things in her ear to soothe her crying, gently rocking her back and forth in her arms. Helia quickly hopped off his bike, and led them to an abandoned alley before they could spotted.

"How could I let this happen?" Helia turned around to watch Flora slowly slipped down onto the ground, looking like she was a second from falling apart. He wasn't sure if she was talking to him or to herself. "My people, my kingdom. It's all my fault."

Helia kneeled down before her, pulled her into his arms, and held her tightly while she cried, stroking her hair and kissing her head. It pained him to see her this way, in much so grief. It was heartbreaking. He waited until there were no more tears before he began to speak. "This isn't your fault, Flora. I swear to you we will find a way to fix things."

She looked up at him. The tears were gone, but her face was streaked with dry tears. "You think so?"

"I know so." He promised.

"Flora!"

They tensed at the sound of her name, but soon the tension vanished as they recognized the voice. They smiled in relief as Musa and Timmy ran to them, hugging their dear friends for dear life.

"Musa, you're alright." Flora hugged her so tightly, she was sure Musa's body would break. But her friend returned the hug with fierceness.

"I'm just lucky to be alive," said her friend. She smiled at Timmy, who was hugging Helia. "We both are."

Truth be told, the two looked like they barely escaped. Timmy's clothes were practically in sheds, bruises covering nearly everywhere around his body, and his glasses were crushed. Musa's clothes were in the same condition, one ponytail loose from its bound while the other barely stayed in, her wings crooked, and a bruise on her cheek, as if she's been slapped.

Musa grabbed her friend's free hand, and said "Flora, there's something you should know."

"Is it about O'Neil?" she interrupted. "We already know."

"Besides that. He came into the castle and attacked us. Most of the servants are captured and some are dead. Mirta's was one of them."

Her eyes widened in shock. She adored Mirta like a little sister. It was unthinkable O'Neil could kill such an innocent, little girl. But then again, the prince was proving more and more how much of madman he was.

Understanding her shock, she nodded. "But that's not all," Flora's shock increased as she saw tears gathering in Musa's midnight eyes. In the past twelve years of their friendship, she never once saw her friend stifle a tear. "O'Neil killed your father. King Edmund is dead."

The second those words slipped out of her mouth, Flora's entire world stopped and crashed right before her eyes. For a moment, just a moment, she thought she was mistaken. As if her hearing was off, or her mind was playing tricks on her. But, seeing the firm solemn yet grieve look in Musa's eyes, the same look she saw in Timmy's eyes as he nodded sadly, and the shock in Helia's, she knew it wasn't a mistake.

Her father was really dead.

Her stomach immediately dropped, her eyes flooded with tears that poured down her faces, and she was on her knees, sobbing and yelling louder than she ever had before.

Musa held the little girl in her arm while she used her other to hug Flora, the two friends holding each other tight as they cried and cried. Timmy and Helia joined in the hug, offering their strength.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Flora shrieked, her screams mixed with her tears. "Daddy."

"Oh, it does break my heart to see such a beauty in tears,"

A chill went through each of their bodies as they heard that cruel, smug voice. O'Neil and Riven stood a few feet away from them, the prince smirking while the servant was scowling, a look that suited him well.

"But nothing I can handle." He finished.

"How could you do this?" she demanded, struggling to keep control of the rage burning up inside her.

"Simple," he shrugged, "You said you'd rather face the destruction of your planet than be my wife. If that's the way it's going to be, then so be it. Because in the end I always get what I want."

Flora rushed over to attack him, only to get slapped across the face. She was knocked hard onto the ground, and was slapped again by him. Ten times more harder.

"Consider that my payment for hit." He smiled.

Musa and Timmy rushed forward to help their friend, but Musa was knocked down by his ice blast while Timmy was hurled into Riven, who wrapped his hands tightly around the boy's neck.

"Timmy!" Musa exclaimed.

"Let him go!" Helia demanded. If O'Neil or the servant hurt his best friend, then may God help him…

"You really should choose your words more closely," O'Neil said, then turned to Riven."Do it."

Riven looked at them, looked down at Timmy's pale face, and, without hesitation, twisted his head around, letting out the most sickening crack they've ever heard. Timmy was dead before he fell to the ground.

Musa stared at her friend's body in shock, mouth agape and eyes filled with hot tears. Flora was too shock to even move. Helia slowly rose to the ground, his body trembling in such anger.

"_Damn you!_" He yelled, rushing over to the prince and raising his dagger high, ready to strike.

Only to be pierced into the chest by O'Neil's sword, looking into those cruel laughing eyes as tremendous pain kicked in.

"Helia!" the girls screamed in Helia.

Helia held the wound tenderly, already feeling the blood filling inside his mouth, his entire body burning with a pain he ever known before. He slowly fell down onto his knees.

"I always win, peasant," he looked up at O'Neil. "I always win."

He was kicked hard in the face, hitting his head hard as he fell backwards. The last thing he heard was Flora yelling his name once more before his mind swept into unconsciousness.


	10. Chapter 10

**A Whole New World Chapter 10**

It was her nail-biting that confirmed her fear that this could possibly not get worse than this.

Musa wasn't exactly sure when she started biting her nails. Maybe she was three and was bored. Maybe she was feeling funny, mistaking the uneasiness of her stomach as hunger, and decided the nails would satisfy her. What she did know was everytime that familiar uneasiness shook her, her finger was automatically set in her mouth, her teeth chomping away.

She did when she watched her family home go up in flames, being consumed by the raging fire, praying for her parents to come through the smoke.

The time she and Flora were six and had snuck out of the castle to go the carnival, not understanding how easy it was to get lost in the crowd and forget which way was home.

And now. Staring outside the window, watching the never-ending blizzard carry on as it blew hard against the castle, biting her nail down to the skin as she was lost in her thoughts.

A question that constantly rotated around her mind was how?

How, she wondered, was it possible that a day that started off so ordinary ended in such tragic, blood-shed?

A day where the planet she loved like a second home was take over? Where the people suffered the lost of everything they held dear? A day where hell literally let loose in ice?

It wasn't enough that the vile bastard sprang chaos in Linphea. He declared himself as hailing conqueror, taking a friction of citizens including her and Flora back to his planet and leaving the rest to rot in a planet where the plants were dying, food was scare, and the rivers were slowly drying up. Under the strict supervision of his most trusted (and most vile) advisors who'd surely bring misery into their new hell.

Musa pulled her chewed-up finger away from her lips, her azure eyes sneaking a peek over at the angelic-faced little girl who was lying in bed, lost in her dreams.

Rose. That was her name. At four years old, the girl had lost her home, her mother, and now possibly her freedom.

She had held onto the girl as she was boarded onto O'Neil's ship, rubbing comforting circles against her back while she hummed a lullaby, attempting to calm the fearful child as they arrived to the ice planet.

To Musa's surprise, she wasn't immediately sent off to the ice-dungeons with the rest of the people. The guard-the violet-eyed, red-haired murderer grasped her arm and led her, with the Rose still in her arms, to a room that on the other side of the castle. A master guest room completed with a large king-size bed, a private balcony overlooking the Ice Mountains, and a private bathroom, done in gorgeous shades of silver and white.

Truth be told, it was far nicer than the tiny, closet-spaced room she had. She was treated, not as a servant or even a high lady, but a special type of guest with the maids checking her sheets and bringing her fresh towels every morning, meals appearing on wheel by her door three times a day, and free to do what she wanted in her room. Yet, no matter how nice the room or how "nice" she was being treated, Musa wasn't fooled. She wasn't a guest. She was a prisoner, a song-bird trapped in a nice cage meant to assume the bastard and his hound.

Guards were posted outside her door, ordered to put her down if she as so much as took a step out the door. The room was spelled with dark magic that weakened her powers immensely. The room was kept a freezing, negative-degree temperature that wasn't enough to kill them but enough to feel their heart struggle to pump blood under the icy conditions.

As bad as things were for her, it was nothing compared to what might be happening to Flora.

Her heart cried out for her best friend who lost her father, a good friend, a friend who had became her prince, and her home all in one day. Enslaved princess held prisoner by the man who was the cause of her misery.

The crack in her heart widened, leaking out more blood as she thought of her other two best friends.

Helia who was stabbed in the back, left for dead.

Timmy, sweet dorky Timmy, who was killed by-

Her thoughts broken at the sound of the door opening. One hand immediately went down to her thigh, where a knife was strapped around her leg.

She tried masking her surprise, along with her anger, as he entered the room, eyes sweeping across the room before settling on her.

"Most people down at the dungeon would kill to have even a bite for this." He referred to the plate of chicken breast, mixed vegetables, and bread sitting by her dresser, untouched.

Despite her self-control, she couldn't contain the snort that slipped past her lips. "Sure, they would. And then panic, realizing too late that every food O'Neil sent me was laced with poison that would paralyze every limb in the body until it crushes the heart altogether, killing them slowly. All to satisfy the sickness that is your prince? Yea, I don't think so."

A brow arched slightly, cracking the wall of indifference. He looked impressed almost by her ability to see through the prince's seemingly generosity.

"Wow," he commented, his voice low and flat. "You're smarter than you look."

It was a struggle to keep her mouth shut tight, holding in all the insults and curses she wanted to flung to him like aimed arrows. But that was what he wanted. He wanted to see how far she could be pushed. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction, turning her attention back to the snowstorm.

He joined her by the window. Unable to fight her curious nature, she snuck a quick peek at him.

He was an asshole, no doubt about it. A smug, irritating asshole. She couldn't deny though that he was a good-looking one. A good face. Nice body. And his eyes, the most electric shade of violet, intense and deadly, which she believed were his best features.

Nevertheless, he was still an asshole. Not even an asshole; the word seemed almost too subtle for him. He was a bastard, just like his master.

A bastard that saved your life, a voice whispered to her, reminding her of what took place during the castle invasion.

She was held down by O'Neil, who were as every bit as polite as the prince himself. She would have been raped, she was sure of that. Yet there he was, standing in the door frame, shooting one in the head and pinning a death star to the other's neck.

Why did he save her? He didn't bat an eye when Mirta's poor body was tossed onto the ground like a ragdoll. He didn't care at all when other women were handled roughly as they were shoved onto the ships. So what made her so important?

"You king was a fool." he declared, breaking the silence between them.

Surprise rattled her when she heard him speak. Her surprise quickly changed to anger as his words sank in. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he answered, paying no mind to the sharpness of her voice. "Your king is a fool. He and the former king may have been friends, but the rumors of the Prince's cruelty are works of nightmares. No sane man would consider such a man to be the husband to his daughter."

A growl erupted from her. She clenched her teeth to keep herself from exploding. "King Edmund was a great man. A wise man. He believed everyone is granted the benefit of doubt until they proved they're not worthy of it. It was one of many traits that his people respected him. Loved him for."

River-no, no Riven (an odd name for an even odder man) snorted. "A trait that got him killed in the end."

_Bastard._ "Shut. Up."

He spared her a glance, cocking his brow. "Why so angry, little songbird? Can't handle the truth? Did I diminish the goldy image of your perfect king? Was a nerve stuck because your admiration ran a bit deeper? Did your duties as a servant involving pleasing the princess in gossip and he in bed?"

_Goddamn, no-good, stinking son of a_- her hand flew at his face, swinging hard against his flesh, turning his head to the opposite direction.

"Fuck you!"

She was proud to see a red handprint painted on his cheek, even if her hand stung from the hit. He tenderly rubbed his cheek, and looked to her with a look in his eye that was close to annoyance.

"This," he said, shaking his head. "is the type of attitude that's going to make your friend's life a living hell before she walks down the aisle."

Flora. Musa's stomach dropped like a steel plate down to her feet. "Where is she?"

"In the Queen's quarters, adjusting to her home. She'll be perfectly safe-right into her wedding day."

"You tell me where the hell she is, you bastard, or I swear I'll-"

"You'll what?" he challenged, a dangerous glint in his eyes that chilled her. "Use your weakened powers to blast a few guards? Fight your way through hundreds of armed men patrolling the castle? Get yourself killed trying to save your princess? I got news for you, sweetheart. She isn't worth your neck."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"I do actually. The princess pays you a nice fee for your services, so you think you're bound to her. Well I got news for you. She isn't worth it. I don't give a flying fuck how much she pays you. We live to serve, not be their personal shields."

Pay? That was what he thought she was worried about? That a few golden coins tied her loyalty?

Musa stepped right in front of him, looked him dead in the eye, and said to him "You are so clueless. Princess Flora is more than my mistress. She's my best friend. She's my sister. I love that girl. I'd kill for her. And if it came between her life and mine, I'd go. No questions asked."

Riven studied her, taking her words into account, trying to see if there was a hidden agenda behind them. Finding nothing but the solid truth, he seemed almost…confused. In that moment she saw that despite the fact they have similar backgrounds, their upbringing was as different as the sun and the moon.

His eyes softened to a degree the longer he looked at her. His hand unwound itself from her neck and trailed down to her chin, where he held almost gently.

"Even so, she's not worth your life, songbird." His eyes skimmed down from her eyes, past her nose, down to her lips. His gaze warm yet soft as a light caress.

Her next breath was caught in her throat as he moved closer, the distance between them practically nonexistent. One step, her heart leaped up to her throat. Another, she tried to breath easily, despite the beating of her heart. One last step, she parted her lips and closed her eyes-

The memory of Timmy wrapped in Riven's hands popped into her mind, his head snapping to the other direction, the sound of the fetal crack brining equal amounts of her forgotten hatred and guilt.

"Get back." She took a step back and shoved him. Hard.

He opened his mouth to speak but she quickly beat him to the punch.

"You have some nerve. You think you can come into here, say something decent, and make a move on me? When days ago you aided the prince in the destruction of Linphea?"

He met her words with a look that was darker than any glare she ever received from Cora the Terrible.

"I hate to break to you, but I'm not one to forgive and forget so easily. Your bastard of a prince murdered a man who was the closest thing I had to a father. Along with an innocent girl who was practically a child. He and his men killed, tortured, and captured the king's people. He's doing God-knows-what to my best friend. And my other best friend is now a cold corpse, _thanks to you_. You killed him without hesitation. With no regret."

How she possibly think there was anything remotely decent in him? Timmy's murderer? What possessed her to think such a thing? What possessed her into leaning in for that kiss?

"You may be able to wash the blood off your hands so easily, but there will always be that stain. It will be there, no matter how hard you scrub. And the people affected by the blood-spill will always remember."

She gained a response from him. A silent one. A cocked eyebrow and narrowed eyes.

"Anything else you liked to add?" he asked.

Musa thought carefully, wanting her final words to make her mark. To deliver her blow. But in the end, she was tired, and figured there was only one thing she could say. "Get the hell out of my room."

With a slow nod of his head, he turned around and walked towards the door.

'The wedding is in three days," he told her. "I suggest you use the time to figure out what your next move is going to be."

The door shut softly behind him.

A hot, lone tear dripped down her cheek, burning her skin like acid.

* * *

Alone in the Queen's chambers, the memories of the ghosts hanging heavily in the silence, Flora stared back at the white rose on her lap.

It wad given to her by O'Neil as an early wedding present, before she was shoved into his mother's old room filled with things belonging to a person who was no longer alive but without a head. All because of her cruel, mad son.

The rose was beautiful. Fully blossomed and perfect down to the last petal.

Yet as beautiful as it was, she knew there was danger behind the flower.

_Roses, my dear Flora_, her father had told her when she was a little girl. The two were in her mother's rose garden and had taken her into his arms, presenting to her a beautiful pink rose. _Are one of nature's most misunderstood creatures. At a quick glance, one assumes the flower is helpless. Pretty to see, weak to fight. They misunderstand that the flower is just as a flytrap. It lures people in with its beauty and then bites when they have them with their thrones. Remember, my dear. Every rose is a beautiful deception, sharp with its steel thrones. _

Daddy. Tears stung her eyes, filling them to the vein, threatening to spill. She kept them in. She refused to cry.

Tears weren't going to help her now.

Her stomach churned at the sound of the door opening. The contents within kicked her hard as he spoke.

"Interesting," O'Neil said. She could feel his thin lips curving into his signature, cruel smile behind her. "Had I know a simple flower would make you behave, I would have brought you a bouquet of roses."

_I would have used them to slap that arrogant smirk off your lips. _

"Perhaps I should try the same with that musical friend of yours. She's a nut one to crack. I'd be nothing but the perfect gentleman, giving her and that child with her food, a good room, and clothes. Yet she regrets it all. Or perhaps I should try a different attempt. Personally straighten out the loose keys, then share the wonder of music with my men. After all that fighting and killing, they deserve some fun, don't you think?"

"You as so much as lay a hand on Musa, I'll straighten you myself." she said, her words cold and hard.

O'Neil moved himself in front of her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look into his eyes. Flora allowed him to handle her. She met his gaze. She used the opportunity to show much she despised him, unleashing every ounce of anger and hatred in her eyes.

To her dismay, the prince wasn't swayed. He smiled, amused.

"You shouldn't frown so much, my dear," he told her. "It's not attractive."

She forced herself to remain still.

"I come bearing good news. For the past few days you've kept yourself up at night, wondering what will become of you. Well I came to rest your weary head. The wedding will commence in three days time, during the Celestica eclipse, which will increase my power to a hundred fold."

Flora repiled to the news with a dark, heated glare.

The psychotic prince made a sour face that reminded her of a child unsatisfied with their toy. "Come on, my dear. Don't be so bitter. Every girl, I'm told, dreams of this day,"

_She is when she is marrying a good man. Not a monster. _

"I don't understand why you are excited. It will be a night to die for. I'll be at my most powerful. I'll gain a new planet to rule. I'll have a new bride to bear me sons. Perhaps even a daughter who can be useful to me in given time," He smiled pleasantly at her, leaning down and brushing down her hair. "I'm also planning a great meal in your honor, for both you and your friend. For her, she'll be served the steamed, seasoned head that four-eyed cockroach she was fond of. You will be served the head of that useless, blue-haired peasant. I'm sure they'll be appetizing. After all, my hounds clearly enjoyed devouring your father's corpse."

It took every ounce of patience and self-control the young princess had to keep herself together, calm, and not give into the rage.

"I should gather up the scraps and make them into a sweater for you. That way you'll always have a piece of your father with you."

He laughed hard at his own joke, laughing so hard he was in tears.

Flora clenched her teeth so hard, she could feel her morsels cracking.

Wiping away a tear, he shook his head at her as if he was scolding a child. "Don't act as if you are a tragic martyr, my dear. You brought this to yourself. You should have accepted my hand the first time I presented it. Now your planet is in ruins, your people are my pawns to use and discard, and your dear father is dead. Oh well," He shrugged. "As the saying goes. The past is the past. We can only look forward to the future. And mine is looking incredibly bright."

Giving her one last smile, he headed towards the door. His cocky stance came to an abrupt halt when she spoke.

"I wouldn't start trying on the crowns yet if I were you, Prince O'Neil, especially given the possibility that your head might be rolling around the ground before the crowing ceremony even begins."

Her words got to him. She could tell by the tension stiffening his body and the tightening of his fists.

She was proud of her words.

She paid for those words.

Pain, swift yet brutal, smacked her across her face, knocking her off her seat and onto the ground.

Attempting to breathe normally, Flora pressed a shaky hand against her swollen cheek. Her flesh protested against the touch, increasing the searing pain. She bit her lip in an attempt to keep herself calm.

"Well, well, well. I see you still have that smart, little mouth of yours," he commented. "No matter. I know plenty of ways to shut it up."

He left the room. The guards locked the doors behind him.

Flora slowly rose to her feet, her hand still holding her bruised cheek. She looked over at the flower.

_Remember, my dear. Every rose is a beautiful deception, sharp with its steel thrones_.

It was time to unleash the thrones.

**AN: Hey guys. First off I want to say I'm so so so sorry it took me forever to update the story. I had ideas and plans, but other ideas and plans with school and life got in the work. But I promise you. I will finish this story. I'm hoping before the year is out. Thanks so much for reading, reviewing, subscribing, and favoriting. You guys rock. Also, while you're here, check out my other stories. You may enjoy them. **


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